Memoirs of a lasting love (A DLS Story)
by Jojoboo90
Summary: This is a 5 chapter short story that loosely follows Rae (Four/Tris' daughter) and Jake from the beginning of their relationship up until the end of Divergent Love Stories. If you have not read Divergent Love Stories you will not know who these people are. Disclaimer: I do not own Divergent. Rated T/M. (COMPLETE)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So this story is to give us a little more insight into Rae's mind and her relationship with Jake since Divergent Love Stories was mostly focused on Four/Tris and Abbex. It takes place two years before chapter 12 and carries out through to Chapter 14 of DLS, ending with Chapters 44 and 50. I hope you guys enjoy it :)**

* * *

 **Year 0  
Rae is 16**

It's weird, sitting in the same dining hall with him but not being able to speak to him. He keeps stealing glances at me and every time we make eye contact I grin like I'm stupid and I can't chew my food properly. I don't really care about the rules, but for _his_ sake I try to make a decent attempt at complying. Eventually I guess he decides he doesn't care either, because he stands to his feet and begins to make his way over to my table.

I sit alone… almost. There's one other initiate at the table; a transfer. Most of the other Dauntless born initiates think that I eat children so they don't sit or stand too close to me. I don't mind it. Most of them are unbearable anyways. But then again, they've all been here twice as long as I have. I guess that's what makes them twice as belligerent.

I smile idly when I hear his footsteps approaching behind me.

"Hey, you," he says, looking around nervously, bearing the weight of his unspeakable crime on his shoulders.

"Four," I say with a crooked smile.

"I know it hasn't been that long," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "But it's really nice to see you, Rae."

I've only been gone a week but it's felt like forever. I miss home. I'm in the same building yet it feels like I'm a thousand miles away. I keep wondering how Anna's coping with sleeping alone, if Alex is making friends at school, if Christian is sleeping through the night so that Tris can get some sleep.

"It's nice to see you too," I say. And considering the way he kept peeking over here I expected him to have so much to say to me, but instead he just stands there. "Is that all?" I ask him after a while.

"Yeah. I can't say too much or someone might report me for divulging the secrets of Dauntless initiation."

I scoff. It's not like he hasn't done that already.

"Well go away," I say with a grin. "Before someone sees you and charges you with crimes against humanity."

He laughs quietly. "Ok. Catch you later."

"Ok," I nod, and I watch him walk away. He looks back a couple of times and we both grin every time he does.

It's strange seeing him this way outside of the house. He usually wears his Four face in public so most of Dauntless thinks he's uptight and miserable. Tris says he was once, but it's hard for me to imagine such a thing after I've watched Annabelle press her clips into his hair and then make him dance around the couch wearing a tutu. Some days he's such a great dad. Other days he's more like the cool big brother that sneaks you extra dessert after mom already said that you can't have any more.

When he finally exits through the door and I bring my head around, I feel a pair of eyes on me. I raise an eyebrow at him. It's not often that someone stares at me. I stare back for a while, but he doesn't break.

"What?" I tersely ask the only other person at the table. But he just rolls his eyes and continues to eat his food. What's _his_ problem?

I've heard them talk about him; the hardy, angel-faced Erudite transfer who doesn't speak to anybody. He may not speak but I can already tell that there's a lot that goes on in his head, though his face gives no clues as to what. I may not be Amity anymore, instinctively in-tuned to other people's emotions, but sometimes people are just easy to read. Sometimes they're not. This one is not.

It's strange that he sits alone, away from the other transfers. Neither does he entertain conversation with the Dauntless born. And he's beautiful. The kind of beautiful that makes you come spontaneously. There's no way he doesn't know. But when he walks he doesn't flaunt it the way other boys would. He holds back like he's trying to crawl into himself, like he's hoping you don't notice him. A strange quality for an Erudite.

People are always fascinated by the transfers. They're like that little break away from the Dauntless redundancy, that is, until they adapt. And as absolutely bored with Dauntless initiation as I am, I decide to take this one on as my own little side project, try and figure him out.

So I study him for the next few days. Though keeping my distance proves to become more and more difficult the more I watch him. I don't know why. There's just something about him, I guess.

Later that week I follow him into the training room. He spends a lot of time in there, although I don't know what for. Much to his favour he's fighting transfers who can't see a punch from a mile away so he wins all his fights.

I've watched how he hits and apart from his horrible technique I've noticed something else. He's not hitting the bag trying to improve or even for hitting it sake. He's hitting it with initiative, like he's angry at it. But he doesn't put half as much force when he's in the ring and he doesn't fight cruel, which makes me think that when he's in here he's hitting someone specific. He might be out to seek revenge but if he's going at it like _that_ he won't last ten minutes.

I stand in the shadows for a while, debating whether or not I should help him, but who am I kidding? So much for watching him from a distance.

Fearlessly, I decide to advance. I mean, he can't be _that_ bad. Can he?

"You're doing it wrong," I say as I come to a halt beside him.

He stops and looks behind him to ensure that I am indeed speaking to _him_. "Excuse me?"

"You're doing it wrong. You're using your muscle to fuel your hit. You need to throw your body weight into it."

He gives me a patronizing look and I suddenly wonder if it was a mistake coming over here.

"Maybe I don't need to," he scowls at me. "I'm bigger than you are, and I'm stronger."

"I can see that," I say, and I let my eyes linger south of his neck and sculptured shoulders for a bit. He's rock solid and chiselled, like he's been preparing for Dauntless his whole life. And he oozes testosterone and power and all the things that make girls wet themselves.

"You're also slower, a bigger target, and you have no technique," I add. "It's not just about how hard you can hit. It's also about defence and endurance. If you keep doing that you'll tire out your arm or pull your muscle." And we wouldn't want those beautiful muscles getting hurt. "Throw a little bit of your weight behind it and follow through. You'll save energy and you'll have just as much force."

He turns his whole body to face me and I throw all my focus into not looking at it. So I concentrate on the lock of dirty-blond hair that sticks sweetly to his forehead, darkened by sweat. "Seriously?" he scowls. "Do you honestly think you could take me in a fight?" He sizes me up with his eyes. I don't take offense. It's a common mistake, understandable even, assuming that strength and size are the sole pivotal factors in who wins a fight. I gather he hasn't seen our rankings. Assuming that he even knows who I am.

"If you keep hitting like that, I'm _sure_ I can," I say. On the other hand, if he'd learn how to fight properly I wouldn't stand a chance.

"This is ridiculous," he says to himself and he turns back to face the punching bag. But I haven't given up just yet and some ridiculous thing tells me to hit him in the arm, so I do.

"Try and hit me," I say, and then I hit him again.

He rolls his eyes. "I'm not hitting you."

"You won't be able to," I almost laugh. "Come on. Have a go at me."

He turns back around with an ireful look on his face. Oh God, I've pissed him off.

"Why do you Dauntless born always think you're better than everybody? Think you could just take whatever the hell you want?" And there's venom in his voice. I take a step back. Where the fuck did _that_ come from?

"What are you talking about? You don't even _know_ me."

"I know your type," he barks.

"My _type_?" I ask with a screwed up face.

"I'm not stupid," he hisses. "I saw you with Four in the dining hall. Is that how you like them? Older and married? You _do_ know that he's married right?"

My jaw drops. I suddenly feel the urge to hit this guy in the face. Who the hell does he think he is? No wonder nobody talks to him.

"I know," I say nonchalantly. "And his wife just had a baby in January. He's the cutest little thing."

He scoffs and he continues to hit the punching bag, poorly at that. Apparently he _can_ be that bad.

"He's my dad," I say, and I'm not even sure why I'm explaining myself to this asshole.

"Huh?"

"Four. He's my dad… sort of. I'm adopted." Angel-face looks at me for a while and I can tell that he's trying to figure out if I'm being serious. When his eyes go from squinting to peering wide open I reckon he believes me.

"It's ok," I say. "You can tell me whenever you start feeling like a jackass. Still think you're not stupid?" And I make my annoyance obvious.

"Oh," he says, red. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be an asshole to you." And I wonder if he's apologizing because he was being a dick, or because pissing off a Dauntless leader's daughter is _not_ the best way to make a name for yourself around here.

"Yes, you did. So don't apologize for it. And it would be dumb of you to think that you have the capacity to hurt my feelings."

He stands a little straighter and says, "Ok. I'm sorry I judged you then. I shouldn't have."

It's a much more sincere apology, given the look in his eyes. They're a lush green, like the vibrant glow of freshly sprung leaves. He really is a beautiful creature, despite his unpleasantness. Or maybe his unpleasantness is part of what makes him attractive. I can't really tell, but I decide I don't care and I begin to imagine myself rubbing my fingers against the solid ridges of his body. I'm not ashamed of it. Tris says us women can be stupid like that sometimes.

"So why did you?" I ask him casually, hopefully obscuring the fact that I am entirely fascinated by him.

"I've just had my guard up since I've been here," he says, letting his arms relax at his side. "I wasn't really welcomed by your peers. As a rule of thumb, I just expect all Dauntless born to be hostile."

Why does that not surprise me? It's commonplace in Dauntless, finding the bigger fish and taking him out. And if a week and a half into training they've made it their business to intimidate a transfer then they are incredibly threatened by him. It's actually a good thing, a compliment, in some twisted Dauntless kind of way.

"Ok," I say. "But they're not my peers… and I'm not Dauntless born."

I've never felt the need to hide that fact. Given our age difference, no one would ever really think that I was Four and Tris' biological child. They all know I'm adopted. What they don't know is where I came from. Most people just assume that I was factionless. I don't correct them. It just makes my repute more colourful.

"Word of advice," I add, looking past the confused look on his face after my last comment, "Ignore all pathetic attempts at intimidation. True strength is being able to acknowledge the strength in others. Disparagement is the son of cowardice. You don't really want to be friends with cowards anyways."

"I didn't come here to make friends," he says firmly. I can respect that.

"That's fine. This is Dauntless. You don't need anyone to like you. But you do need them to respect you."

He tilts his head to the side. "I take it they don't like you either."

"Something like that," I say with a half-smile. "But I'd like to think I'm just misunderstood."

He smiles. "I guess you and I should stick together then." It takes too much effort to not smile back.

"If you ever want to stop playing tag with the punching bag and learn how to really fight, you know where to find me." I try not to sound too hopeful and I turn around before the look on my face sells me out. But before I get too far I hear quick footsteps trotting behind me. I mentally grin.

Bingo.

He grabs my arm. "Hey, what's your name?" His voice is as soft as I've ever heard it and for some inexplicable reason I find myself blushing. I look him in the eye and command the blood out of my cheeks.

"Rae," I say simply and not too quickly.

He nods a little before he says, "I'm Jake."

* * *

 **A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed the first installment! :) Please let me know what you thought of it. I'll try and update as soon as I can.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Year 1  
Rae is 17**

We step inside; proud, strong and side by side, exercising our lack of a damn as we push past the drunk partygoers. We're not here for the party. We don't even know whose apartment this is. We're just here to make use of their living room floor and capitalize on the free alcohol.

Jake comes along willingly these days. We've become like two peas in a pod. He's the Clyde to my Bonnie and the newest member to my happy band of autonomous misfits. It was hard getting him out at first though. He's not really a social butterfly, but when he realized that I wasn't either, he decided to humour me. We had a great time. We went zip-lining.

 _What are we doing up here?_ Jake shouted over the wind as he stood on the 100th floor of the Hancock building.

I didn't answer him. Instead, I grinned and bent over to pick up a sling off the ground and attached it to the pulley that hung from the steel cable. I lay myself in it, headfirst, while Zack secured the straps across my shoulders and thighs.

 _Oh no!_ Jake yelled, petrified when he got the idea.

 _Oh yes!_ I yelled back. _I promise you'll love it!_

Zack pulled me back, in the sling, to the edge of the building and started to count down from five.

 _I'll be waiting for you at the bottom!_ I shouted at Jake. Then Zack pushed me forward and with a loud shriek of thrill I left them behind and hurtled toward the ground.

It passed by too quickly and not before long I was slowing down. I undid the straps holding me in and I crashed into the net that waited for me. I crawled out and anxiously bit at my lip, looking up along the path of the cable, waiting for signs of him. I smiled when I saw him. He was quiet but he had his arms spread out, like he was flying.

He came to a stop, grinning as he undid the straps. He fell into the net and I wrapped my palm around his arms and pulled him to his feet.

 _What'd you think?_ I had asked him, but he never answered. He just shook his head and laughed a beautiful laugh. He didn't _need_ to answer. His eyes were wide and he looked wild and free. Dauntless.

I'm kidnapped from my reverie when Jake grabs my wrist and pulls me faster through the partygoers. Though he humours me much more often than not, he's still not one for crowds. And the fact that people keep staring at him wherever we go doesn't help either. Even after we've walked away I can feel their gazes on our backs, following us around the room. Well… following _him_.

Jake just has a way about him, a demeanour that threatens men twice his age and a charm that makes girls melt in his presence and giggle at everything he says, although he doesn't do it on purpose. He hates the attention.

"Finally!" Zack yells at us, throwing his arms in the air when Jake and I finally walk into the living room.

Zack and Angel were the first real friends I made in Dauntless. They were dating back then and they knew everything about each other because they had grown up together. It sucked being a third wheel but they were cool so I stuck around. They broke up a year and a half ago, decided to just go back to being best friends. They're together all the time either way.

At first I couldn't imagine spending every waking moment with a person. I'd never had a best friend before. Not before Jake. I get it now.

I'm about to make myself comfortable on some stranger's living room floor when I notice a fifth sitting in the night's designated locale. A blond fifth with long legs and too much makeup.

What's _she_ doing here?

"I hope you don't mind," Angel says. "Rachel was having a bum time so I invited her to sit with us."

Angel has been infatuated with Rachel for as long as I can remember, even when she was with Zack. But Rachel doesn't swing that direction. I've seen the way she looks at Jake. Like she's hungry. She probably is. She's so thin I can puncture a tire with her hipbone. The starving factionless ain't got nothing on her.

"What's one more to the party? Let's get this show on the road," Zack grins. "I spent all day thinking about dares for you three."

I snicker, forgetting my previous bother. There's something thrilling about this game. I'll never forget the first time I played. It felt exhilarating, like the first time I wore Dauntless black.

"You guys are playing dare?" Rachel asks nervously.

No shit, Sherlock.

"Yeah. And you're playing with us," Angel says. Zack has a rude smirk on his face, and I'd bet my life that Angel already dared him to dare her to kiss Rachel. I grin. Those two are ridiculous.

"I'm… not comfortable with Dare," Rachel says. My grin plummets.

"Are you kidding?" Angel asks carefully.

Of course not. Rachel's prissier than the transfers. To be honest I was surprised that she didn't transfer out.

"You're free to leave at any time," I scowl.

"That won't be necessary," Angel says sharply to me, rolling her eyes. "We'll play Candor or Dauntless instead."

I raise an eyebrow. Not only is that a child's game, it's for children who are neither Candor _nor_ Dauntless. Dauntless will choose Dauntless every time so we eliminate the unnecessary question and just get straight to the dare. It's almost factional sanctity. What's wrong with this girl?

"Let's just toss the rum and get some lemonade while we're at it," Jake whispers in my ear.

"I know, right?" I whisper back.

Rachel seems to sense our exasperation with her and thinks about it for a while. "Ok," she nods.

"Newby goes first," Angel says, and she passes the bottle to Rachel. I roll my eyes when she pretends to struggle with it.

"Can you open the bottle please, Jake?" she says with an indisputably flirty tone. "It's so stiff. I'd never get it open."

 _Seriously?_

I lock my jaw to prevent my crude thoughts from spilling out, assuming they aren't written all over the scowl on my face.

I hate girls like Rachel; pretty vultures who just take one look at him and decide that they're in love with him. But they don't know a damn thing about him. God, he's beautiful, I know. But he's so much more than that. He's not void of thought the way other Dauntless boys are. He has substance, a substance that girls like Rachel are too shallow to appreciate.

The muscles in Jake's arm tense as he twists the cap open. He takes a drink, licking his lips as he sets the cap back on. I really wish he wouldn't do that. His lips are very distracting. I have to force myself to look away and that's when I see Rachel staring at him and biting her lip. I read her thoughts and without hesitation I take the bottle from Jake.

"Rachel," I say before anyone else can say anything. "Candor or Dauntless?"

"Candor," she smiles pretentiously at me. It annoys me further.

"Is it true that you had sex with Michael Sutter last week?"

Her smile instantly hits the floor, but she recuperates and takes the bottle, swallowing a mouthful. I presume she's had plenty practise doing that; swallowing.

"I'll take that as a yes," I mutter, and I take back the bottle. "Rachel," I say again.

"Again? You can't do that."

"I have the bottle. I can do whatever I want." Her mouth falls open. That's right. You're in _my_ territory, Barbie. "Candor or Dauntless."

"Candor," she says tersely. How stupid is she? Is she _that_ afraid of a dare?

"Is it true that you had sex with Michael Sutter's cousin week before last?"

Rachel snatches the bottle and takes another drink, scowling at me.

"I guess that's true too," I say, louder this time. She winces and secures the bottle in her hand, wrapping her scrawny little fingers tight around it. "My turn," she says. "Jake."

But of course.

"Candor or Dauntless?"

"Let's try Candor for a change," he says.

"Is there someone in this room that you're secretly in love with?" she asks him, and she tilts her chest forward. It's a pity her collarbone sticks out more than her breasts do.

Jake shakes his head, grinning. "I'll stick to Dauntless," he says and he takes a drink.

"Honesty sucks, doesn't it?" Angel teases.

In her corner, Rachel is smiling shrewdly at Jake's response. When will people learn that taking a drink to a question you don't want to answer is an answer in itself? I almost wish that he had just said no. Now she'll be thinking that he wants her.

Wait. Does he?

"Rae," Jake says, breaking me from my horrid thought. "Candor or Dauntless?"

"Dauntless. Always."

He smiles. "Seven minutes in heaven with me?"

"My pleasure," I say with a blush, but mostly only to get on Rachel's nerves. As much as I'd love to wrap my arms around his neck and devour him, I'm probably not the one he really wants to be in a closet with. I walk in and with a force he pulls the door shut behind us. I sink into the corner like a little girl who got caught with her hand stuck in the cookie jar. I stare at my fingers. I suspect he's about to lecture me.

"What's going on with you, Rae?"

"What are you talking about?" I play dumb.

"Why are you trying to rip Rachel's head off?"

"Seriously? I'm doing her a favour, keeping her from embarrassing herself."

"By publicizing her sex life?!"

"Hardly. It's not like it's a secret! Everybody knows she's a nympho! _Oh Jakey_ ," I say mockingly. " _Can you open the bottle please? You're so big and strong, and I'm so flaccid and thin_. She barely even tried to open it! She keeps throwing herself at you. It's nauseating."

Before I even finish, Jake gives me a look.

"What?"

He smiles handsomely. "Looks like Alex isn't the only one with a jealous streak."

"I'm not jealous!"

Shrugging he says, "I didn't even notice her, Rae."

I scoff. "Oh please. I'm not stupid. How could you not? She obviously wants to bed you. Besides, how many beautiful girls are there at this party?"

"Just one," he says softly as he tucks my hair behind my ear the way he always does. I roll my eyes. I don't want to hear about it, whoever she is. Stubbornly, I run my fingers through the front of my hair, leaving it tousled in front of my face again.

"Hey, don't hide from me," he says tenderly, pushing it back again. "It's just me." I always want to melt when he talks to me like that. "What's going on?"

He raises my chin and I wish he didn't. My body shivers with static wherever he touches me. His eyes burn into mine and I hold his gaze steadily, but only for a second. I look away, knowing that the longer I look at him the stronger the desire to feel his mouth on me.

"I know I'll have to share you one day when you finally get the balls to fall in love with a girl," I admit. "But please just don't let it be one of the stupid ones." _Like Rachel!_

Jake looks at me serenely and it makes me wonder what he's thinking. Eventually he says, "Ok. I promise. Now be a good girl." And I see a small smile forming on his lips. I'm glad my animosity amuses him. I roll my eyes at him.

"Fine."

* * *

"How was the party?" Tris asks me, passing me a glass of water as I sit myself up on the bed.

"Horrible," I groan. "Dauntless Barbie Rachel was there."

"Oh?"

I nod. "And the ugly, green jealousy bitch troll took over me and I tried to make her look like an idiot, but I think I made myself look like an idiot in the process." I hold my head in my hands and let out a breath.

Angel was thoroughly annoyed at me when Rachel got up and left. I behaved after Jake chastised me, but the damage was already done. And as shameless as Rachel can be, I still felt a touch of guilt for chastening her and even more so for upsetting Angel. I didn't want to go back to my apartment to wallow in lonesome sorrow, so I just came here. I tend to find my old room quite comforting.

"You should tell him," Tris says knowingly as I sip on the cool water.

I shake my head. "I told you, he doesn't feel that way about me, Tris."

"Yes, he does," she insists as she always does, and she says it with such surety as if it were a thesis formulated and proven by the city's smartest Erudite.

"How do you know that?"

"Because Tobias says so," she says sweetly, and I suddenly understand her unwavering conviction.

I laugh. "Oh, ok. Well, I guess that makes it official then. I should just march over to Jake's apartment and kiss him right now," I say as I set down the glass, and I push myself up off the bed and begin to make a break for the door.

"It's true," Tris says with a laugh, pulling me back into the bed. "It's some man code thing. I don't understand it either."

I frown. "Here's another code for you. You're not supposed to fall in love with your best friend."

"Why not?"

"It's just something that you don't do."

It's risky and confusing. You're literally throwing all your eggs in one basket. Because where do you go when the person you go to is the person who hurts you? And then nothing is ever the same. After people find out that it can't work they just end up with less than they had before. Angel and Zack were two of the lucky ones. And as much as not being with Jake agonizes me, I'm scared to death of frightening him off or losing him if things don't work out. Either way I'm losing my sanity.

"I think there's no better person for you to fall in love with," Tris says.

I give her a look. "I don't see you locking lips with Christina."

She laughs. "That's different."

"No, it's not," I whine and I grunt and kick my legs in the air as I throw a tantrum in the bed.

Tris smiles at me. "You're overthinking this, Rae," she says, and she lays herself beside me.

We do this often. We'd throw ourselves across the bed or the couch and giggle or whine like two silly little schoolgirls and we'd talk about boys. Well… _I'd_ talk about boys. She'd just talk about Tobias. I press my face into Tris' chest and I fake sob, but I relax into her arms as she strokes my hair.

I've never called her Mom, although I've always wanted to, ever since I was eight years old. But I'm afraid it will make room for awkwardness since calling Tris Mom means calling Four Dad. It's not that I don't want to, because I do. But there's another part of me that wonders if I'll be betraying my father if I do. I can't betray the mother I never knew, but it's different with my dad. I still remember the colour of his eyes, the texture of his hair, the smell of his clothes, the sound of his laughter. I still remember the day he taught me how to crack an egg and told me the secret of how to make the perfect muffin.

Maybe one day I'll be able to give Four the mention that I want to without feeling like I've taken something back from my father. But even if I never do, we're ok without the labels; Tris, Four and me. There's so much more that makes us family.

Tris tucks me in sweetly as I stare at her with puppy dog eyes and pouting my lip. She grins and shakes her head and with a kiss to my temple and a soft "Goodnight, Rae," she leaves the room.

Not too long after I hear a tiny knock on the door. I smile into my pillow.

"Come in," I say. And she walks in with a careful smile, her teddy bear, and her bright pink PJs.

"Hey, Anna."

She searches my face. "Mom says you aren't feeling well. So I brought you Mr. Snuffykins. He always makes me feel better." She tilts her head to the side and says, "Unless you're too old for Teddy Bears."

I laugh. "You can never be too old for Teddy Bears." I take the big brown bear from her hands and say, "Thank you, Anna."

After I moved out and Anna couldn't crawl into bed with me anymore, Tris got her a huge ass Teddy Bear. She can't sleep without Mr. Snuffykins, yet here she is giving him to me. The Amity could learn a lesson or two from my nine year old baby sister. She is by far one of the best people I've ever known, uncorrupted.

"Come on up. It's ok," I say. I pat my palm on the bed twice. "It's not anything you can catch." Unless being lovesick is contagious. But undoubtedly she'll have her turn, meeting that one guy that turns her world upside down.

"Do you feel better now?" Anna asks me and snuggles herself in place, Mr. Snuffykins lying between us.

"Much better," I say with a sincere smile. No one and nothing quashes distress the way my family does. I'm grateful for them all every single day of my life. "Have I ever told you that you're the best baby sister ever?"

Anna giggles and says, "Only aaaaaaall the time."

"Good. Now don't you ever forget it." I kiss her hair.

"Ok," she smiles and closes her eyes. "I love you, Rae," she says.

"I love you too, sweet Anna."


	3. Chapter 3

**Year 2  
Rae is 18**

I jump out of the couch the second I hear Jake knock on the front door. Alex and Anna went to bed hours ago and I've been dying for some company. Four and Tris went out for the night to have some much needed alone time and won't be back until morning, so I'm on babysitting duty.

"I brought popcorn," Jake says with a humble grin when I open the door, flaunting a thoroughly filled wooden bowl.

"How generous," I deadpan.

"You sure the little twerp's asleep?" he asks, looking around the living room as he invites himself inside. Jake has been wary around Alex ever since he peed on him the first time I brought him over. I keep inviting him for dinner and he keeps refusing. I guess he's still traumatized.

"Yeah, I'm sure," I say, shushing him and closing the door behind him. "And don't call him that," I whine, quickly walking into the kitchen to fetch us both a glass of water. "He was just looking out for me. That's what brothers are supposed to do. And I'm sure he doesn't even remember that."

Jake scoffs. "Well, I will never forget." He sits himself gingerly in the couch and returning from the kitchen I sit down with my legs folded and facing him.

"I can't believe you're scared of a little boy," I say, teasing him.

"He's not just a little boy. He's the son of Four, Dauntless legend. He _should_ be feared. He should be feared by all." Jake tries to keep a straight face but then he folds, and we both snicker like idiots.

"Yeah, whatever," I say. "You are _so_ ridiculous."

I love it when he's like this; funny and playful. Nothing like the cryptic, unpleasant boy I met two years ago. Dauntless sees the harder parts of him, but when we're alone he can be so open and vulnerable. I find it satisfying knowing that there are sides of him that are my secret to keep. At least until he decides to share himself with someone else. But I'd rather not think about that, so I divert my attention to the bowl of popcorn, and digging my hand in there I stuff my face with the salted goodies.

Jake laughs at me. "You know, before the war, people would eat these and watch movies," he says. "It's kinda like watching the occasionally entertaining camera footage in the control room, but with rehearsed storylines and trained actors."

"I know what a movie is, Idiot."

"My apologies," he says, sarcastically. Then he smiles. "There are a couple of them on the database at Erudite, but they keep them strictly for historical and educational purposes, not entertainment. My mom used to pick the lock and sneak me in there when I was a kid. There was this one about a badass superhero dog. I liked it."

I smile, imagining Jake as a little blond boy, sitting on his mother's lap, immersed in a children's movie.

"I wish we could still make them," I say, leaning sideways into the large couch. "Dauntless movies would be the best."

"You think so?"

"Hell, yeah," I cheer. "A movie about drunk, crazy daredevils? What's not to love? Besides, could you imagine how boring a Candor movie would be?"

"Or an Abnegation movie," Jake says.

"An Erudite movie would be purely educational." I fake vomit.

"I believe those were called documentaries," he says matter-of-factly.

I screw up my face. "Even the name of it sounds boring."

Jake laughs quietly. "I think Amity movies would be nice," he then says.

"Why?"

"They'd be about love. I think I'd like romantic movies. I like love stories."

Such a common misconception, that the Amity exude love. But that's all it is; a misconception, a façade. Many days I had wanted to steal all their peace serum so I could see how miserable they really were.

I raise an eyebrow at Jake and say, "That's because you have a cherry where your penis should be."

He laughs again, louder this time. "I guarantee you. I have a penis and it's right where it's supposed to be. It works and everything."

"Yeah? Be sure to give it an early morning test run when you take a shower tomorrow. _If_ you take a shower tomorrow," I correct myself.

"I will," he winks, and he throws a kernel of popcorn at me. I smile at him and I find myself hoping that he'll stay late to keep my company and then crash on the couch. I love talking to Jake. It's easy. We could talk about nothing and talk about everything and we could do it for hours.

"That must've been cool, watching movies with your mom," I say. Jake's mother died the same day my father did. I don't know much about her, but from the way Jake talks about her I know that there's no way she was a part of Jeanine's tyranny. Possibly, that's what got her killed. He had asked me once if my dad died in the storm too. I told him no, but that he did die that day. I will have no part in that lie.

Jake smiles the way he always does when he thinks about his mother. Her name was Amber. "Yeah. It was," he says. "Don't you think it's ironic that both our mothers were from here and we ended up coming back?" he asks me after a while.

Sometimes I _do_ think about it, my mother and grandmother, in a different time, walking these very halls as Annabelle and Isabela Rodriguez. But I often don't. My thoughts hang in abeyance and without direction because I never knew them. I only know that they existed. Thinking about them is as wholly frustrating as grabbing onto open air, reaching for something that's just not there.

"Only a little," I say.

"Sometimes I wonder why she left, or what my life would have been like if she hadn't transferred out of Dauntless… or hadn't died. I wonder what it would have been like to grow up here instead of Erudite." He stares into the now almost empty bowl of popcorn.

Jake is far more pensive than any other human being I've ever met. But maybe that's because there were so many different directions his life could have taken. I'm not that complex. Even if my mother hadn't transferred, or she and my father didn't die, I can't imagine myself being anyone other than who I am right now. It's who I've always been. I was born for Dauntless and I knew it ever since I was four years old. I would've ended up here one day or the other. Though as a little girl I wondered if I would've had the strength to leave my father when the time came.

"Trust me you didn't miss much. There aren't too many safe things to do with your children in Dauntless. Hopefully that changes by the time I'm ready to procreate."

"You want kids?" he asks, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Of course I do." I love my family more than anything, but there's something undeniably depressing in knowing that there is absolutely no one else in the entire world that shares my blood. "I want two. And I want to give them a nice, big yard and watch them run around in it."

Nobody in Dauntless has a yard. But Jake doesn't point out how ridiculous my dreams are. He's staring at his fingers, lost inside his head again.

"You don't?" I ask him. I imagine that's where his head is.

"I guess I do. I'm just not sure if I should."

"Why not?"

He shrugs. "My dad is an asshole. My grandfather was an asshole. And I'm pretty sure that _his_ father was an asshole. I think I've been genetically programmed to be a dick dad."

"That's bullshit," I quickly blurt out.

"No, it's not," he says, defensively almost. "There were studies about these things from before the war. More than 40% of males that grow up the way I did turn out to be no better than their fathers. And considering the Shepherd track record, I don't like my odds. They don't call it a cycle for nothing."

"Fuck the statistics," I say to him. "Cycles can be broken. Even this one. I've seen it."

Jake looks at me, curious, but he doesn't ask who. A part of me is glad.

Most of the Dauntless know about Four's past. But they don't know everything. They haven't seen what I've seen. They haven't seen him lose his temper and then break down because he did. They haven't seen him battle his demons and won. Maybe if Jake knew it would help him. But it's not my secret to tell.

When he looks away I press my palm against his shoulder and firmly say, "Jake… it is humanly impossible for you to be a dick dad. You know why? Because you are one of the few awesome human beings left on this planet. Your kid's gonna fucking love you."

In the past two years I've come to see and know all the many ways that Jake's sad excuse for a sperm donor affected him. Many days I've wanted to slap the bastard silly. How could a man be so power-hungry that he felt the need to prey on his own son? It's left Jake with scars, visible and not. Jake is anything but weak, but most times he'd swear that he is. I wish he could see what I see when I look at him.

"And his mama too," I add, trying desperately to make him smile. And he does, but it's a peculiar smile. I recognize it. It's the way Tris smiles at Four when he's not looking. It's the way _I_ smile when I lay alone in the dark privacy of my room, when just before I fall asleep I think about being with _him_.

Those were strange thoughts for me at first. I mean, I've liked plenty of guys before, but before Jake I'd never thought of being with someone that way; something permanent, lasting. He just seemed to fit and it went beyond anything that he did or said. It was more like an innate attraction, an appetence.

I remember one time when we were supposed to go out and I arrived at his apartment only to find him spiking a fever and looking as brittle as a biscuit. All my plans got thrown out the window and all I wanted to do was to stay in and take care of him.

 _You don't have to do this, Rae. Go. Have fun,_ he urged me.

But I ignored him as I forced a pill down his throat, and after condemning him to his bed I left for a short while and returned with condiments and I made him soup. He was rather impressed. Dauntless raised girls aren't known for being domesticated like the Abnegation or the Amity. That was the day I decided to tell him where I really came from.

 _I'm not surprised_ , he had said to me.

 _Why not?_ I asked. _Most people would be._

Looking into my eyes he said _, Most people don't know you. You're a lot kinder than you seem._ His tone brooked no argument.

I often wondered where that hint of kindness came from, since I had zero aptitude for my birth faction. But I didn't have to wonder for too long. It is easy being kind to him because I love him. And loving him, I want nothing more than for him to be happy… even if it's not with me.

"You should tell her," I say, hesitant and with only half of my heart. "Whoever you're thinking about right now. You should tell her."

"If I do it changes everything," he says softly, his voice deep.

"You're telling me?" I say, and then I scoff. "It'll change my life forever. I'm sure she won't be in favour of our drunken sleepovers. Where am I supposed to get another best friend who will put me up for the night without trying to sleep with me? Then again… There _was_ that one morning when I woke up feeling rather sore."

He laughs a little. "And what if she doesn't feel the same way?" he asks.

"What is it with you?" I scold him and I sit up straight. "Stop doubting yourself, Jake. Any girl with proper sense would be madly in love with you. You're amazing."

"Do you really believe that though?" he asks, and he bites his bottom lip. He really is beautiful in many more ways than one.

"Without a doubt," I say firmly.

Jake's hand reaches out and I think he's gonna push my hair behind my ear the way he always does, but instead his palm rests on my cheek and on my jaw, tenderly skimming the skin there. Then leaning into me and gently pulling me to him he closes the gap between us and presses his lips to mine, kissing me. For a split second I wonder if I'm dreaming, but when the slick slide of his lips against mine fills my arms and legs and toes with goose bumps and makes every hair on my body stand at attention, I know that I'm very much awake.

His lips are slow as they mold mine but they are firm and demanding, and in less than a second mine follow suit. It's a natural kiss, as if we had kissed a thousand times before, and the feel of his lips on mine fills me with emotions that I can't even begin to identify.

I'm left wanting more when his lips break away. But I savour the feel of his breaths caressing my skin as his face hovers over mine, his palm still pressed into my cheek.

"You kissed me back," he says softly. And then he smiles.

"You can't imagine how long I've wanted to do that," I whisper against his lips.

"I know _I've_ wanted to do that for two years," he says. "That's how long I've been in love with you."

I pull away and I'm almost sure I gasp. "Why didn't you say something?"

"Why didn't _you_?" he asks, searching my eyes. I was afraid that if I admitted that I wanted more that I'd scare him off and ultimately end up with nothing. It never occurred to me that he felt the same way all this time.

"I just don't want to ruin it. I don't ever want to lose you," I admit softly.

Stroking my cheek with his thumb he says, "You never will," and he kisses me again. This time the kiss is deeper, stronger, hungrier. I become bold, pushing him down so that his back is pressed against the flat seat of the couch and I'm on top of him. His hands grab at my waist and creep gently up against my sides, and the sensation of his skin on my skin is exhilarating.

I become lost in the kiss, but I don't miss his gentle hardness as it grows underneath me, pressing into my thigh. I pull back and I laugh nervously.

"Whoa there, cowboy," I grin.

He smirks handsomely. "I told you I had a penis."

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has favourited and is following this story! :) And Damn You Kylie, Paula'08, Guest, HI, Bamberlee and Divergent Rebel 4664 for your reviews on the first two chapters. You guys are amazing. Hope you enjoyed this chapter as well :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Important Author's Note: THIS CHAPTER IS RATED M, M and a whole lot of M. Look away little younglings. You've been warned.**

* * *

 **Year 4**  
 **Rae is 20**

I take a deep breath, trying to subdue my rage before I step inside the training room. Jake is already there and I'd rather not soil his day with my preoccupations. He comes to meet me when he sees me walking towards him and I instinctively slump into his arms when he wraps them around me.

"Hey, baby," he says, studying my face after he brings his lips to meet mine in a sweet kiss. I smile and he presses his eyebrows together. "What's wrong?"

Honestly I don't know why I even bother sometimes. Jake can read me like a book.

"Bad morning," I tell him. "I ran into Tyson. He's still getting on my case about initiation."

Mike, my old boss, retired. He was a sweet old-timer and he had no problem giving me the month off. I was his favourite marksman. Tyson, on the other hand, isn't thrilled about the idea.

"Still?" Jake blurts out pointedly. "Tell Tyson to back off before I pistol-whip him in the jaw."

"So dark. So violent," I tease, relaxing deeper into his tense arms, getting high off the sweet, male scent of him.

"I'm serious, Rae. I don't like that he's bothering you so much. It's already been okayed by the leaders. It's old news, so what's his deal?"

"I don't know," I say, finally able to peel myself away from Jake. "But don't worry about it. I'm more than able to pistol-whip him myself if needs be."

"So what's stopping you?" Jake asks, following quickly behind me.

God knows I want to. But I don't want to do anything that could sabotage me keeping this position, and if it's too much of a problem with my new boss then that's exactly what's gonna happen. Either that or I'll have to change jobs and I really hope it doesn't come to that. I love my job. I work in weaponry; making, testing and repairing the colourful Dauntless artillery. It's a rush; testing the limits of a firearm, the steadiness and sharpness of a knife, the reach of a bullet. It doesn't feel like working at all.

Truth is I'll miss Dauntless if it ever disintegrates. It might not be perfect and sometimes my faction mates can be too much to swallow, but the Dauntless are as close to freedom as one can get in this city. There's nothing like the thrill of the wind in your face as you speed down the zipline, or jump off a moving train, or the childish joy of getting hit by a paintball or a wad of food during a cafeteria food fight.

I really don't mind the factions. I just wish we weren't enslaved to them. But if getting rid of them is the only way we can be free to just be who we are, then so be it.

"I'm just giving him time to come to his senses," I answer finally. "That's all."

"Enough time has passed don't you think? He's been getting at you for weeks now and quite frankly I'm running out of tolerance."

I turn around and give Jake an eye. " _You're_ running out of tolerance?"

"I'm the only one that's allowed to piss off my girl," he explains with an agitated tone and a straight face. Dammit, he's serious.

"Oh," I say, dragging out the word, unable to resist the urge to smile at him even though I know he's angry. "Is that how that works?"

"Absolutely. So the next time Tyson breathes too loudly around you, it'll be the last. If you don't put an end to it I will."

"Ok," I say sweetly and I watch and wait for his face to relax. Hopefully I remember to keep my mouth shut the next time Tyson gets at me. Jake can be a little short-tempered when it comes to people and me. I might not be able to pacify him next time. And then I will _definitely_ lose my job. But that's just because he loves me and it makes him a little crazy sometimes.

I was glad when he started training the initiates with me. It's nice having someone I can trust on-board, though he's completely unaware as to why I'm doing this. He knows nothing of Divergents and simulations and Erudite conspiracies. And even though the Erudite's not watching us anymore and things have been fairly quiet between the factions, that could change at any moment. One day I'll have to tell him. I don't know how but I'll have to tell him everything, even the fact that they most likely murdered his mother.

But that's for a darker day, and for right now I just want to keep living in sweet bliss with him.

I walk back toward him and kiss him fervently on the lips, knowing damn well that as upset as he may be he could never resist it. I press up against him, forcing him backwards into the wall and I steady him there. Then my fingers work at his belt until it's no longer an obstacle. I unhook the course button of his pants and I pull at his zipper.

"What are you doing?" he whispers against my kisses.

"Trying to take your mind off my boss."

Jake grins wickedly. "Don't start nothing you don't plan on finishing, girl."

And biting my lip I run my hand slowly down his hard stomach until I'm between his legs. I claim him in my hand and I move it over and around him, feeling him become harder and harder under my fingers. I squeeze tightly as I stroke him. He moans and his head tilts backwards.

"Still thinking about Tyson?" I whisper in his ear, gently taking the soft lobe of it between my lips and teeth.

"Definitely not," Jake says, breathless.

"Good."

I trail my lips down his ears and down his neck, leaving kisses and soft nibbles wherever they tread. I feel the quickness of his pulse slamming against my lips.

"Rae," he says gutturally. "Stop." But his neck tilts away, bidding me access, and his manhood becomes hard and large and wet and sticky between my fingers.

"Are you sure that's what you want?" I ask sultrily.

"Raelene," he says again, his eyes closed, his tongue caressing my name.

"Yeah?" I ask innocently.

"We don't have enough time before the initiates get in," he says through gritted teeth.

"Such a shame," I say, knowing damn well that we don't, not even for a quickie.

Jake grabs my hand. "Stop," he growls thickly.

"Ow," I cry playfully as he pulls it out of his pants and brings it up to his face. His lips quirk up in a half smile and his eyes shine bright with some rude thought.

"What?"

His grin deepens and he says, "Your hand smells like dick."

I bring it to my face and oh god he's right. I sigh. "Great. Now all the initiates will know I shoved my hand down your pants."

"Good," he says audaciously. My mouth falls open.

"Oh, screw you."

"I fully intend to," Jake growls. And grabbing me from underneath both arms, he lifts me off the floor as if though I weighed nothing. With his weight he presses my back into the wall and I fasten my legs tightly around his hips. And without him having even touched me yet I'm a jittery, moist mess, and I feel a throbbing in the pit of my sex.

Damn me for forgetting that I could resist him no more than he could resist me.

Jake bites his bottom lip as he grins wickedly, his eyes eager, and then he kisses me. I moan into his mouth and he smiles briefly against the kiss before he deepens it. His kiss becomes demanding and insistent and I shiver when his tongue brushes against mine. His breathing accelerates as he leans deeper into me. Hungrily, I run my hands up to his face and into his hair.

His hand leaves the side of my face and swiftly it crawls up underneath my blouse, leaving a line of static in its path. He cups my left breast and I twitch. The feel of his fingers against my nipple makes all of my insides tighten on command. I wrap both arms around his neck to steady me as his hand slips out of my blouse and it joins the other, fumbling at the zipper of my jeans.

"Why don't you wear a skirt sometimes, baby?" he says, sucking and leaving kisses against my neck. "You always make this so hard for me." But effortlessly he manipulates dexterous fingers, exploring me, enjoying me, until I'm just a ball of tense, sexual need. I bite into his neck to stifle a moan when he thrusts them inside me. And reeling from the intensity of his kiss, the pleasuring of his fingers and the pressure of his hard, heavy body imprisoning mine against the wall, I summon my release and then I'm almost there. I clench tight around his fingers, but then there's a sudden emptiness as he withdraws them.

I cry out in frustration and I mentally scold myself. I should have seen this coming.

"Jake. No," I beg as he pulls away and sets my legs back on the floor.

"We'll finish this later," he says, grinning and biting his lip.

My eyes open wide. "Jake, you can't leave me like this! I'll be frustrated all day!"

"Serves you right," he says with a nod. "Just try and pass it off as your usual charm." And then he walks away with a satisfied grin, knowing that he just beat me at my own game. I stand in place, my mouth hanging open, not sure whether to love him or hate him.

"Jake! Come back here! You asshole!"

He turns around and he smirks at me, the curve of his mouth pushing his cheeks upward into his eyes. The gorgeous bastard.

* * *

I pass my day alternating between wanting to hit something and grinning silly. I'm left sensitive by Jake's assault and when the gentle rubbing of my own underwear frustrates the living crap out of me, I find myself screaming at the initiates, the poor little things.

In their best interest and mine, I give them the afternoon off, knowing that Jake will hear about it soon enough. Not like it matters. He's gonna leave me to boil for as long as he can. And that he does. But I wait for him and I do it patiently until nightfall.

I stand in the kitchen of my apartment wearing nothing but his favourite pair of royal blue underwear, jittery and fresh and ready. He enters the room without a sound, yet I sense him before I hear or see him. But my body has always been highly aware of his presence.

Jake wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me to him, the skin of his bare chest against my back. _Oh yes,_ I think, not caring to suppress the subsequent moan.

I turn around quickly and the hunger in his eyes makes me quiver. Denying me meant denying himself after all. Without saying a word and with one quick motion he runs both hands through my hair, and finding the tail of it he wraps it hastily around his wrist and pulls it downward, forcing my face upwards to his. I grin against his lips.

Jake grabs the crook of my neck and with his fingers dug deep into my hair, he kisses me, hard and possessive, with lips that only become more and more urgent against mine. My hands grab at his arms, at his shoulders, at his neck, coming to rest in his hair and I tug at it urgently.

Clumsily, we stagger backwards like drunken lovers, kicking away whatever dares to put itself in our path. My fingers fight blindly with his belt and I undo his pants, tearing them away from his hips. They fall to the floor and he steps out of them. We collapse violently on the bed, his weight pressing into me, and with his lips not leaving mine for even a second he releases my hair and tugs violently at the hook of my bra. He pulls it off and unceremoniously he hurls it across the room.

Finally his lips break free and he leaves hungry kisses on my jaw and on my neck and between my breasts. And then his fingers ruthlessly tease my left nipple as he takes the other in his mouth, making my toes curl. His tongue dances viciously around it and he nips at me. I shiver and like clockwork I moan and my back arches, pushing me even deeper into the sweet warmth of his mouth.

He leans down farther and begins to kiss and suck down the line of my midsection until he's pulling off the last of my underwear and sucking at my thighs. I shudder when the stubble on his cheek brushes against the sensitive skin there. Then unexpectedly I jerk with what feels like a sudden wave of sweet shock as his thumb finds my clit and he enters one and then another long finger inside me. I writhe under his touch as they dance inside me, knowing just where to press and how hard, how fast to press it. I cry out when his mouth joins the dance, and his tongue expertly moves with his fingers, assaulting me, claiming me.

Closing my eyes and almost unable to breathe, I relish the feel of his mouth and his fingers in and on me, and I make no attempt to silence the breathless whispers of his name that escape my lips. My legs begin to stiffen as I feel my release building up inside me and my body folds as if it would break. I cry out over and over again as he pushes me once then twice then three times over the edge.

He doesn't let me fall. With his free hand he reaches up and pulls at my nipple, knowing the rush it sends through me. And the combination of multiple assaults makes me gasp and my eyes water as again I feel an orgasm building, every muscle in my body growing taut with tension and desire. It's sensational. But then it's too much, it's too much too quickly, and I feel like I am about to burst or self-destruct. I push violently against his hand, my thighs trembling, and desperate to escape his sweet torture I crawl up the bed. But he grabs me by the hips and he pulls me back down.

"Where you going?" he growls, steadying himself on his knees. His fingers grasp at my sides and he lifts me to him, and before I can react he plunges deep inside me. I gasp as he fills me, grabbing at his fingers where they are clawing at my hips. And he picks up the pace, thrusting faster, harder, and I cry out in sweet ecstasy. He covers my mouth to quiet me and I bite his palm. It only makes him thrust harder. My legs tremble and my insides begin to quiver as my whole body moves to his rhythm, aroused even further by just the sight of his beautiful form over me. He breathes raggedly and his jaw is set and I know that he is lost in me.

I've never felt as vulnerable as I do when my body is completely at his mercy. But I've never felt as powerful as I do when his mouth twitches and he moans gutturally as I tighten around him, knowing that I'm the one making him do that, like a pixie bringing a giant to his knees.

But I don't fight it. I don't want to fight it. Any of it. I am a willing slave to his impeccable understanding of my anatomy.

Damn the Erudite.

"Come for me, baby. One more time," he begs as he thrusts into me over and over, pushing me and pushing me until I am close to the edge again. And clawing at the sheet beneath me, coming apart in his hands, I obey.

I convulse and shatter into a million pieces as with one final swing of his hip I ascend and touch heaven. I scream out into his palm as I let out a release that can only be described as glorious.

Bless the Erudite.

Just the same, Jake groans as he reaches his climax and he empties himself into me. He collapses on top of me and goes limp inside me, the full weight of him pressing me into the mattress.

Skilfully he flips us over so that I'm lying on top of him; his body my mattress, his chest my pillow, and with his arms set in the crook of my neck and in the groove of my back he steadies me there. And I just lay there stretched out on top of him, soothed by the swift rise and fall of his chest as he catches his breath, feeling loose-limbed and Jello-like, replete.

Times like this time are so different from our first time. Hovering over me, he had leaned down and he smiled into a kiss, his hands on either side of my head. The kiss became hungry and desperate and there was no point in denying that we wanted each other right then and there. Our hands were careful but committed as they explored long desired territory for the first time. And it was with much enjoyment that we had learned each other. It wasn't strange or awkward as I had feared it would be. It was sweet and intimate to the very end.

Naked with entwined limbs and racing hearts, panting and shaking in the aftermath of our passion, he drew my body closer to his, holding me and nestling me against him. I closed my eyes as he pressed his forehead against mine. It overwhelmed me, just how right it all felt.

 _It doesn't scare you? How natural this feels?_ I had asked him.

 _No. That's what scares me_ , he said. And I knew exactly what he meant.

Some people say soul mates don't exist. I beg to differ. There is a synchrony in everything Jake and I do, even something as simple as making the bed after we've destroyed it with our playful ramping. And there's a charge that fills the room every time our eyes or bodies connect. And no matter what the genre of our lovemaking, being with each other is always powerful, meaningful, taking us even deeper in love than we were before. The depth of it really is frightening when you let yourself think about it.

I twist my neck to look up at him and all I see is the rest of my life, all I'll ever need. And when he returns my gaze with earnest eyes, I know that that's exactly what he sees when he looks at me.

"Stay the night?" I say, and I reach up slowly to kiss his lips still stained with the taste of me. I don't even know why we have separate apartments. Most nights I sleep over at his apartment or he at mine, especially during the winter, and we both have keys to both apartments. I guess it's because there's only one thing left after moving in together.

Jake smiles at me. "Is that part of your plan? Tire me out so that tomorrow I won't be able to think straight?"

"Come on. Stay with me," I say again. I kiss his hand. "You're ready for tomorrow. But I'll let you pick first if you stay."

"I don't need any special favours from you," he says, still smiling, as I nibble idly on his finger. Like hell he doesn't. I can't wait to kick his ass. I always win when we play Capture the Flag with the initiates.

"Yeah, you're right. You'll still lose."

"I don't know what you're talking about. After the victory party I win either way." He grabs my ass possessively, sending the sound of a loud clap throughout the bedroom. "I don't understand how you're so good at that game. My inner Erudite tries to predict your next move, but you always outsmart me. Now why is that?"

I've been trained in the art of war.

"I'm unpredictable," I say with a flirty wink.

Jake laughs heartily. "No, you're not, baby."

I slap him on the arm playfully. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"It means that I know you," he says, blushing. "That's all."

"Oh yeah? What am I gonna do next?" I place a kiss on his chest with lips still swollen from his kisses, and I begin to trail my hand downwards, letting my fingers dance as they brush against his skin.

"You're gonna try and convince me to stay."

"That I am," I admit. "If I do a good job will you stay?"

I wrap my fingers around the length of him and I look into his eyes even as I begin to kiss my way down his body; strong, beautiful and completely mine. His hips begin to buck as I stroke him, and his breath hitches loudly as I take him into my mouth. My fingers work at the base as I twirl my tongue around the tip and he flexes his hips, groaning, still looking at me. I suck harder and push him deeper and deeper into my mouth, and I feel powerful again as he writhes beneath me. He grips my hair, hard, and it eggs me on. I pleasure him until I feel his thigh tense beneath my hand and I know he's close.

He thrusts into my mouth and I grin around him as he curses. He pulls harder at my hair and I feel him swell against my tongue. I move faster, harder, pushing him deeper until he cries out and spills into my mouth. His body goes limp and drinking him in I quickly swallow the warm evidence of his satisfaction.

Licking my lips, I crawl my way back on top of his seemingly lifeless body. Seeing him so spread out and expended makes me feel like a goddess. _I_ did that to him.

"You know I was gonna stay either way, right?" Jake says as he passes his hand over my hair.

"I know," I say, smiling.

His lifts his arm from my back and with gentle fingers he caresses my cheek, running them down to my neck. He stares down into my eyes and leaning forward he places a soft, chaste kiss on my forehead. "Do me a favour, huh?" he says.

"Anything."

"Don't ever go anywhere."

"Nowhere you wouldn't come with me."

He chuckles. "I'd go anywhere with you, woman."

"Oh, would you now?"

"Absolutely. I am utterly smitten by you, Raelene Summers," he says. I'm sure I blush five different shades of red. Poetic jackass.

"And I you, Jacob Shepherd."

"Good," he smiles. "Now go to sleep."

Smiling, I press my head against his chest, all but willing to fall asleep in the comfort and solace of his arms and to the strong, rhythmic beating of his heart in my ear. It's become my favourite lullaby. And feeling safe in the arms of my lover, my best friend, the second half of my contented soul, I drift off into a peaceful sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

JACOB slowly entered the large, white room. It was cold inside, like the dead of winter. But his father was known to appreciate freezing temperatures. As a young boy Jacob had innocently wondered if that is what had frozen his heart.

Their eyes met. Jacob felt stronger now and for the first time in his life he never looked away. He stood tall as he faced the man that once dominated him.

"You wanted to see me?" he said to his father.

"It's been so long, Jacob," his father simply said from behind his desk. He never stood to greet his son. He never even smiled at him. One would think that after three years of estrangement a man would be delighted to see his only child. But this man knew nothing of delight or any such things.

"Well you know what they say, dad," Jacob replied nonchalantly. "Faction before blood."

"Yes," his father said. "That is indeed true. But it has been brought to my attention that your loyalty is directed toward the wrong faction, and that you've acquired quite the liking for the young woman. When you told me that you had befriended her that was not the idea I had in mind, Jacob."

Jacob almost laughed at the word 'liking'. It was a colossal insult to what he felt toward her. She was a means to an end but only until she became as vital to his survival as his own beating heart. He could not live a day without her, and the ring in his back pocket soon meant that he would never have to.

"I fail to see the problem," Jacob said, using a tone of voice that once upon a time he would have never dared to take up with his father. "I did what you asked of me and now I'm moving on. Unless what you had in mind included a life of celibacy."

"Watch how you speak to me, Jacob," his father said threateningly. "Sarcasm may be welcomed in Dauntless, but take notice of your whereabouts."

Jacob resisted the urge to smile. Sarcasm is one of the many things he had learned from _her_.

"And at no point did I ever tell you that I was done with you," his father continued, and he slowly rose to his feet. "As you may or may not know, I have sent others. But just like you they have found nothing, and all that tells me is that there is something."

But of course they had only found nothing because _she_ was good at her job.

"What exactly is your obsession with Four? There is nothing special about him," Jacob lied, knowing that the man he'd soon call his father in law shared the same anomaly as he did; Divergence.

His father laughed, and not trying to hide the condescension in his voice he said, "And as usual you miss the point, Jacob."

"Then enlighten me," he replied, although he already had an idea. Jacob had deduced that his father suspected Four's divergence, and that there was a work in motion to protect other Divergents. It was an understandable feat, considering that even though he had only been eight years old at the time, he explicitly remembered the attack that he had later learned was meant to eradicate his kind. And if he remembered, then so did the others. But that is all he knew, and for all he knew, he knew more than his father did. Or so he thought.

"I would love to share my plans with you my son, but unfortunately I cannot trust you. And I cannot have you hindering all that I have in store."

As he came towards him, Jacob recognized the look on his father's face and it alarmed him. It was the face he wore just before he hit him or his mother. It was his face of fury, of madness and of pure evil. His father was not only up to no good, he was up to something despicable.

"If you want to gain my trust I suggest you do the job I sent you to do," his father growled. "You may keep the girl but only if she is an asset."

"I don't want your trust," Jacob scowled, disgusted. He didn't need to know exactly what his father was planning to know that he wanted no part in it. And so he told him so and then said, "I was never a part of whatever twisted game you're playing and I never will be. And you will leave her out of this."

"Dauntless has made you even more foolish," Jacob's father shook his head. "What do you think she will do when my plans take effect and she learns that you not only knew but you used her? Do you think she'll still let you coddle her? She will despise you, and you will have nothing because you will have no place in her world. And if you betray me you will have no place in mine."

But Jacob gave no place to his father's words. She loved him and he had no doubts that she would forgive him. He would tell her everything and he would tell her the minute he saw her again. Maybe then she'd confess her own secrets, the ones he'd only recently uncovered. He wasn't upset; he felt he had no right to be. He had secrets of his own after all. But even more than that, he understood why she kept them.

Maybe this was their chance at perfection, their chance to disclose the one secret that stood between them. It would make them stronger, stronger than they already were, and together they would bring down his bastard of a father.

"You know nothing about us," Jacob said firmly, but it was his mistake. It was all his father needed to know that the bond shared between the two was strong enough to use as leverage.

"I see. Well you can cooperate willingly or I can make you," his father said calmly, standing only a few feet away from him. "I know what you're thinking, Jacob. You best discard the thought. Make no mistake. The day you cross me is the day she dies." Stepping forward he said, "I know where she sleeps, I know where she eats, I know where she goes when she's feeling blue." And with one last step they stood face to face, eye to eye, man to man.

"You utter a word and you will watch her bleed to death. Because even in this very moment there is a gun at my command that stands not too far from where she's standing right now. Think about that."

Jacob stiffened, not from fear but from wrath. He had thought that he couldn't possibly hate the man any more than he already did. He was wrong.

How could it be that even after he left this building, even from miles away and factions apart his father could still control him? Jacob's spirit sunk, cruelly reminded that he would always be the weak, helpless little boy that he was, the weak little boy that _she_ had almost convinced him that he wasn't.

His father had him by the neck and he knew it. She was all that he lived for and he would die along with her if she ever did. And die she would if he ever told her, even if just in silent whispers in their bedroom. Because she was stubborn and strong and full of fight, and all the things that he loved about her were the very things that would get her killed if he ever dare told her. Ironic, he thought.

But Jacob also knew that he couldn't be with her and not tell her. He couldn't deceive her, not like that. And he wanted her to be as irrelevant to his father's tyrannies as she could possibly be. And as long as they were together the bastard would be watching her.

There was no escaping it. He would have to let her go.

It would kill him. It would destroy him. But Jacob knew better than to take his father lightly. He had watched him kill his mother in cold blood, something that even to this day he had not forgiven of himself. He did nothing as she kicked and fought, clawing at the hands that were wrapped around her neck. And he watched her die. He had watched the woman he loved die. And right then, right there, under the threatening glare of the man he called father, he purposed in his heart that it would not happen again. No matter what the cost. It would not happen again.

* * *

 **Year 5**  
 **Rae is 21**

I walk inside but the apartment is deathly quiet. At first I think that maybe he's not back yet, but then I find him, leaning against the edge of the table with his back towards the door. He's slouched forward and his grasp on the edge of the table is unusually tight.

"Hey, where were you today?" I ask him serenely, walking into his tiny kitchen feeling more than a little bit concerned. "I think I turned over all of Dauntless looking for you."

Jake visibly stiffens at the sound of my voice but he doesn't answer me or turn around. I immediately know that something's wrong. But even so, when I come around the table, the look on his face sends a shiver up my spine.

"What's wrong?" I suddenly ask. I stretch out a hand to his shoulder but he pulls away from it and I'm unnerved even more. Jake never pulls away from me. Never. And I don't know what to make of his retreat so my hand floats awkwardly in the air for a while before slowly falling back to my side.

"I need to talk to you," he says gravely and my body tenses. Nothing good can come of this.

"About?" I ask, hesitant, frightened maybe.

Jake lets out a breath and I freeze when he turns to look at me. His eyes are stern and cold and his jaw is clenched tight. He looks like a predator about to attack. But attack who?

"Us," he then says. "I can't do this anymore."

I shake my head a little, lost. "What do you mean you can't do this anymore? Jake, what are you talking about?"

"I mean exactly that," he says, his voice drenched in annoyance. "I can't do this anymore, Rae. You and me. I'm tired of it."

 _No,_ I think to myself. _It can't be._

And over and over I try to reject the unthinkable thought that Jake is breaking up with me. But he wouldn't play games with me, not like this, not when knowing that he holds my heart in his hands and can crush it if he sees fit. Which can only mean… He really is breaking up with me.

"What part of it?" I ask in a breathless panic when I finally find my voice.

"All of it!" Jake seethes at me. But it makes no sense and I don't quite swallow the words.

How can he be tired of me when I'd chain myself to him if I could? How can he be tired of me today when only two days ago he told me that I was the best thing that's ever happened to him, that he loved me more than anything, and then made love to me under the moonlight in the city park?

I come to the only logical conclusion. He's lying.

I fold my arms across my chest and say, "How about you cut the crap and tell me what's really going on here? Why are you-"

But Jake glares at me and it frightens me, silences me. I take a step back. He has never looked at me like that before. Not ever.

Sometimes Jake could seem so dark and distant to the passing eye, but that darkness went away whenever he was alone with me and there were no walls between us. So I shudder as I stare into the cold, menacing eyes that stare back at me. This is not my Jake. It's just us in the room and he's standing right in front of me, yet I feel like I'm in the presence of a complete stranger, a dangerous stranger. He's shut me out, I realize. But how can he when I'm the only one he lets in?

Unless…

"Is it someone else?" I ask, my voice strained and barely audible. It's weakening, the thought of another woman in his arms.

"Yes," he says, but he blinks when he says it. He's lying and he knows that I know that he's lying, but before I can tell him so he leans off the table. Then, "No," he says firmer this time. "Look… I just," he fumbles and clenches his fists. But then he sets his jaw and looking me square in the eyes he says, "I don't love you anymore."

But I wasn't prepared to hear it, and for a second all I can do is stare at him with my mouth open, lost.

It's not that Jake and I had never fought. We often do. Sometimes over silly little things, like him leaving the toilet seat up or 'forgetting' that I had asked him to do the dishes. Sometimes over more serious things like when he let this one brazen Dauntless born initiate run her skinny, little fingers down his chest because 'she wanted to feel what it felt like.'

A more ridiculous thing in my life I had never heard.  
 _  
Why are you worrying about silly, little girls?_ He practically yelled at me.

 _Because she's a silly, little Dauntless girl, Jake. They know no boundaries, and if you don't set one they'll be more than happy to see how far you let them go._

 _You don't think you're being just a little bit jealous?_

 _Oh my God! You did not just say that to me!_

 _Why not?! You're being ridiculous, Rae!_

 _Am I?! Let's see how you feel when I let the male initiates touch my boobs just so that they can appreciate the texture._

 _That is not the same thing!_

 _How is that not the same thing, Jake? You can let silly, little girls ogle over your parts but I can't let silly, little boys ogle over mine?!_

He fell quiet. And I knew that I had won.

 _Who's being ridiculous now?_

It's a trick Tris had taught me, that sometimes men only understand something when you flip the tables on them. But he wasn't all wrong. My jealousy did play a role, though I would never admit it. I've always wanted Jake to myself. But just like every time we fought, it didn't take long for someone to apologize and for us to fall into bed.

 _I love you,_ he said to me. _And only you_.

 _I know. I love you too. But I'm still mad at you,_ I quickly added.

 _I know. And I'm still sorry_ , he said. And then I snuggled myself deeper into his arms.

 _I know. Good night_ , I said.

 _Goodnight, Baby._

And because of it, as much as I hated fighting with him I had never been afraid to, because no matter what we fought about we both knew that we'd work it out somehow. And even when he was beyond angry with me I could look deep into his eyes and see that as angry as he was, he loved me more than that.

But this isn't one of those times. I look into his eyes and all I see is nothing. A cold, strong, filled, determined nothing.

"Don't you think that you should take some time and think about this?" I say timidly. I might as well be screaming _please, don't leave me_. And I probably would if I thought it'd do any good.

"I've thought about it enough," he growls.

"Have you? I don't understand how between one day and the other you just decide that you don't love a person. That is complete bullshit, Jake," I yell at him when pain, hurt, anger and disbelief all begin to swell and mix inside me.

"Look, I was trying ok?!" he yells back. "I only took you out to the park the other night because I wanted to see if something was still there. I thought maybe if we did something nice together it might wake up our old, dead flame, but it didn't."

I take another step back, wounded. "An old, dead flame?" I choke out. "Is that what I am to you now?"

He rolls his eyes. "Sometimes these things happen, Rae," he says tersely. "That's life. Or do you think that you're so damn special that a man can't bore of you?"

I gasp and then I forget how to breathe. Or maybe I just can't because the rage that is squeezing my heart and lungs won't let me.

I want to curse at him. Not only because I know that he loathes it, but because I really want to just yell a big _fuck you_ at him. Instead I just say, "Wow," and I swallow. Still, I feel like I'm about to choke over the lie when I say, "Fine. I don't need you."

"Good," he says. "Can I have my key back, please?" And despite his use of manners, there is no politeness in his tone.

I don't answer him. I reach into my back pocket and pull out the key. I feel the urge to throw it at him but instead I just set it on the table. And then I just stand there though I don't know what I'm waiting for. Maybe for my Jake to reappear and tell me that it's all a lie, or maybe to wake up in my bed and find that it was all a nightmare. But my heart beats a violent gallop inside my chest and it feels like I'm about to throw up or die because neither of those things will happen and I know it. After I walk out of that door, I'll never walk back in.

But I press my lips together and I force back the tears. I won't cry in front of him. I won't beg him. Not because I don't want to but because I have no idea who this heartless monster is. So without another word I turn around and excuse myself from the room.

It's agonizing, every step that I take, but I make it all the way to the door until I can't walk anymore, a single thought halting my feet. My Jake is in there somewhere, somewhere inside that monster. Maybe he needs me. Maybe he's trying to get out. Am I really going to walk away from him?

So I turn around and I'm about to kick and scream and cry and yell until he agrees to try again but before I can he says, "Please leave."

His back is still turned away from the door and I'm not sure if I'm glad that he can't see how desperate I am or if I'm really hoping that he'll turn around and change his mind when he sees how distraught I am at the thought of being without him, all pride and dignity pushed aside.

I think to say goodbye but I don't, knowing that if I dare try to speak I'll fall to my knees right then and there, so I say nothing and I walk out. My fingers tremble around the doorknob but I grip it tight enough to slam the door behind me. I swear I hear something crash and break against it but collecting all that's left of my strength I ignore it and I run.

I run through the halls, crying, not caring who sees me, only hoping to arrive at my destination before I collapse. Somehow I do and I push the front door open, relieved that it's unlocked.

"Tris!" I yell for my mother, storming into her room like a terrified child who just woke up from a nightmare. Only I haven't woken up. I find her half asleep on the bed when I barge in but she comes to life immediately at the sight of me.

"Oh my God, Rae," she says, springing off the bed in panic. "What's wrong?!"

I try to explain but instead I mutter and stutter like a crazy person while she grabs at my face, forcing me to look at her. But I can't. I collapse on her shoulder until she's forced to sit us both on the bed.

"Rae, what is it?" she insists again.

"Jake," I sob. "He broke up with me." The words sound like a pathetic garble and it only makes the sobs deeper and the tears thicker.

Tris' eyes open wide and her grip on me stiffens. "Why?!"

I shake my head frantically. "I don't know. It doesn't make any sense. He says he's tired of it, but we were ok. Everything was ok. I don't understand," and I continue to ramble incoherent nonsense.

"Maybe he's just confused or going through a hard time," Tris says, desperation in her voice. "He'll come around."

"No." I shake my head, slower this time. I look Tris in the eye, conveying the hopelessness resided in them.

"Are you sure?" she asks quietly.

I nod. I saw it in his eyes. It was over. We were over.

Just then, the bedroom door flings open and in evident terror Four barges in. "What's wrong?" he asks me heatedly, and he takes a knee in front of me, taking my hand in his. But I can't speak.

"Jake," Tris whispers to him.

"What did he do?!"

"He broke up with me," I say, quietly repeating the words, testing them out again, still not quite believing them.

Four's expression hardens and he rises to his feet in an instant. He's about to take off but Tris grabs at his arm.

"Tobias, where are you going? Don't go talk to him," she says firmly.

"Talk to him?" he says, exasperated. "I'm gonna kill him!"

And frightened that he really might, I shake my head vigorously and beg, "Four, don't. Just… Just leave him. Please." I love him with all my heart, but I can't force him to love me back, although I would if I thought it were possible.

Four's face sinks and he slouches in defeat. He sits on the other side of me so that I'm sandwiched between him and Tris. They both hold me tight and I cry in their arms just the way I used to when I was a little girl haunted by dark memories of war and sweet memories of her daddy. And just like I did then, I feel like every bit of my world has just ended.

* * *

My life becomes a vicious cycle of wake, wine, and then crying myself back to sleep. Most days it's hard to even get out of the bed though it feels dark and cold. I've gotten so used to falling asleep with Jake's arms around me that his absence leaves me restless. And even when I do manage to fall asleep my dreams are haunted by beautiful forest green eyes and messy blond hair.

I wake every day waiting for that better day but it evades me. And this morning is no better, though I spent the night with company. I'm forced to remember the horrid experience as I stare at the used condom that lies elegantly on my bedroom floor.

"Ew," I whisper under my breath. He didn't even have the decency to throw it in the trash?

All caution and common sense aside, I had already decided that Jake would be the only one who'd ever be inside me bare. The sweet memory of him, or at least who he used to be, won't let me give up that part of me to anyone else.

My bed shifts and for a fraction of a second I feel a glimmer of hope- hope that he crawled in my bed in the middle of the night, contrite. I wouldn't care to fight with him, chide him, make him suffer for a little while the way I sometimes did when he royally pissed me off. I'm so desperate I'd take him back without so much as an apology or an explanation. But I turn around to find a stranger beside me. His hair is dark and he's too thin. His dark brown eyes meet mine and he smiles at me.

What the hell is he still doing here?

"Good morning, beautiful," he says to me. I almost want to vomit at the sight of him. Or maybe it's the sound of his voice.

"Get out."

He presses his eyebrows together. "What?"

"Get… out," I say again, but he's deaf and he just lies there looking at me as if he doesn't understand English.

Maddened, I reach under my mattress and I grab my gun, and with a quick swing of my right arm I aim right between his eyes. "I said get out!" I scream.

He scrambles out of the bed, frightened, and grabbing his clothes and rushing toward the door he yells, "Crazy bitch!" He slams the door shut and not quite angry enough to shoot at him I send an empty wine bottle behind him. It breaks and shatters into a million pieces.

And then, after the sound of glass crashing against wood and then against tile, it's quiet again. I shove the gun back underneath the mattress and then there's just nothing. And the nothingness makes it impossible for me to divert my thoughts away from Jake, away from the times when he'd kiss me for no apparent reason or in the middle of a sentence, away from the times when he'd stand quietly in the corner and just gawk longingly at me.

My mind plays it all out. From the day we met, to the day we kissed, to the day we first made love. And then to the day he told me he didn't love me anymore. I realize then that my oldest fears have come to life. We went from being friends to best friends to lovers… to having nothing at all.

He promised me this wouldn't happen and I trusted him. I trusted him with all of me yet he shot me in the heart. But as much as I try to hate him I can't, because I don't. I know it's sick, masochistic; loving the bullet that pierces my heart and being unable to stop. It's damn near suicidal. But what else can you do when the one slowly killing you is the one you live for?

I don't remember his name, but there was nothing wrong with my perfect stranger. Nothing except for the fact that he wasn't Jake. And if Jake is the one I want, and the only one I want, then how could I ever move on from him? But I swing my feet off the bed and I try to stand, trying to shake off the crippling thought that a better day would never come. I walk aimlessly, to the kitchen or to the bathroom maybe. But it doesn't matter because I get nowhere.

With my back pressed into my bedroom wall I sink to the ground, sobbing. I hit the floor and drawing up my knees, I fold in on myself, trying to become as small as possible. Because deep down I know that no one else would ever measure up to him. No one would ever know me the way he did- does. And I would love no one the way I love him.

I slouch deeper into the wall when I hear a knock at the door, ignoring it. It's been three weeks and I think it's about time I give up praying that he'll come knocking, and I can't bear another round of Angel telling me to pull myself together. I know I'll have to rejoin the world of the living at some point, but I can't go out there. Not yet. Maybe not ever. I'm scared to death of having to see him, having him see me. It doesn't matter how confidently I walk out of here. One look at me and he'd know pathetic I am.

I hear a knock again and then, "Rae?" a concerned but soothing voice says. My eyes shoot towards the door, eager.

"Tris," I say to myself. I try to get up, frantically pushing myself to my feet to hurry towards her. But just as I stand the door opens slowly and all of a sudden I'm not sure I want her to see me like this. My pain is Tris' pain, and I don't want her to be in pain.

But it's too late. She steps in and our eyes meet, and Tris' expression goes from one of worry to all out panic. Walking carefully and wide-eyed, she glances questioningly at the shards of broken glass on the floor, and then at the mountain high stack of dishes in the sink, and then again at me. But I assume I look much worse than my dishevelled apartment given the way she looks at _me_.

"Oh, sweetheart," she says, and her eyes fill with tears as she runs to me. "I'm so sorry. I wanted to give you some space but I should have come sooner."

I shake my head and try to tell her that it's ok but instead I collapse into her arms when we collide and I sink back down to the floor, bringing her along with me. I hold her tightly, desperately, aching and longing for relief.

"It hurts so much," I cry into her shoulder. "I just want it to stop, Tris. Please make it stop."

She grabs at my back and at my hair and says, "You don't know how much I wish I could." But I do.

"I don't know what to do," I sob. "What am I supposed to do?"

Tris pulls away to look at my face, gently wiping away tears that are replaced just as quickly as they are wiped away. "There's not much you _can_ do. You just have to let it all out, as long as that takes. But you can't stay in here, Rae," she says, her voice drowning in concern. "One of these days you're gonna have to walk out that door and face life."

I feel my face twist and fold in on itself at the thought of life. _My_ life.

"He _was_ my life, Tris," I say with a painful groan. "He was there when I woke up and then again when I fell asleep and everywhere in between. He was my person and now I'm supposed to just go on with my days and nights as if his absence doesn't feel like a noose around my neck? Can you imagine what that feels like?"

It makes me want to scream. I want to scream at _him._ I want to scream at myself for crying on the floor like a helpless child. I want to scream at me until I get up, but I can't. I can't. It's excruciating and impossible, like cutting of a leg and then trying to walk. How can I face life when every moment of mine began and ended with him? But I let her comfort me and I consider her counsel, because of course Tris can imagine what that feels likes. Jake is my Tobias.

"In my heart I knew that he was my always," I add softly, staring at the floor. "I thought he knew it too."

"I know it's hard, Rae," Tris says gently, still holding my face in her hands. "But you'll get through this like you always do."

"I don't know that I will this time," I say, and Tris gives me a worried glance. "It's not the same," I explain. "My father never wanted to leave me. Jake did."

It's a different kind of pain, a different kind of abandonment. The kind you never accept or forgive.

"I'm still not so sure about that," she says, pulling me close again. "Tobias saw him by the chasm the other night. Says he looked a hot mess and that's the only reason he didn't throw him over. He better pray that I don't run into him or it's over he goes. I don't care how sappy he looks."

Against my will, I laugh for the first time in weeks. I love Tris when she lets her Dauntless show. She's feisty, like a lioness defending her cubs.

"Don't be fooled," I say, sniffling. "It's not about me. He's being an asshole to everybody and there's no reasoning with him. He's been possessed by only god knows what, but all in all, Jake is gone. He looked at me and I knew it. There was no remorse in his eyes." Even Angel and Zack cut him off, said as of late he's officially the biggest ass in Dauntless.

"I understand," Tris says, nodding. "But no matter what, don't forget that I loved you first and I always will. He's gone, but you're not alone, my baby girl."

I smile and I sink deeper into her embrace, my tears finally beginning to dry out. I close my eyes and one of the older Dauntless proverbs come to mind, one of many that most Dauntless don't even know exist. It says that sometimes being strong doesn't mean being strong. Sometimes it means going on even when you have no strength at all. But I'm not entirely without strength, am I? Tris is right. I have my family. I'll always have my family. And their strength is mine.

I open my eyes and stare at the quarter moon tattooed on the inside of my left wrist. I guess that's where I am now, in a seemingly perpetual night. But then I glance at my right wrist where I've tattooed the sun. I had gotten both tattoos to remind me that no matter how dark things may seem, a better day will come. I just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other until it does. But no matter how long it takes, it will come.

In my heart I know I'll always love him. I doubt the pain will ever really go away and I'll just have to learn to bear it. But I suppose bearing it is better than not. Maybe that's as close as I'll get to better, and maybe better is as close as I'll get to good, but I'll be ok one day. I have to be.

* * *

 **A/N: And that's how the cookie crumbled. If you're having the blues at the end of this chapter, feel free to go read/reread chapter 44 of Divergent Love Stories. For the sake of fluidity I'll be posting it here along with the Epilogue the next time I update. And don't hate Jake. He knows that Rae isn't stupid and so he had to be convincing, and hurting her was the only way to guarantee that she wouldn't push it. But we all know this story has a happy ending so no crying :) Please review!**


	6. DLS Ch44

**Divergent Love Stories- Chapter 44  
**

 **FOUR YEARS LATER  
**

 **Rae is 25  
**

My blood is warm and my fists are clenched tight. I want to hit him. I want to grab him by the neck and kiss him. I want to slap the stupid out of him and then tell him how much I've missed him. But I don't do any of those things when I finally muster the will to step inside the small private room of the infirmary. Instead, I just stand there, looking at him.

He's sitting up on the bed with the white covers pushed aside, his abdomen bandaged so tightly it's a wonder that he can breathe. He looks strong, like he wasn't just shot and bleeding out on the floor, in my arms. His green eyes are piercing, searching mine for an answer as mine search his.

When I see an old, familiar yearning in his eyes, one that I remember was powerful enough to bring me to my knees or make me bite my lip and smile from ear to ear, I look away. He's not that person anymore. My Jake is gone. My Jake disappeared four years ago. It's like being in love with a ghost.

Finally, breaking the uncomfortable silence, he says, "I wasn't sure if you'd come," and his voice sends a charge through me, making me shiver. I swallow hard and stare at the floor.

I see him shuffle in his bed with the corner of my eye but I don't look at him. If he were anyone else I'd stare him dead in the eye and show him that I'm not afraid of him, that he has no effect on me, that I'm over him. But I dare not even look at him.

He knows my strengths, he knows my weaknesses, he knows what makes me laugh and what makes me cry and I hate him for it. I hate him for it because he chose to hurt me anyway. I don't care why he did it. Maybe Four is right, and maybe he _was_ just trying to protect me. But I never asked him to.

He slowly approaches me and just as carefully he stretches out a hand to mine.

"Rae," he whispers.

"Don't touch me," I snap at him.

How dare he pretend to be my Jake, speaking like him, looking at me the way my Jake used to look at me. How dare he pretend to be the man that was once my best friend, my lover, my equal, my everything.

"So this is how I find out the truth? In front of a Dauntless mob and with a gun in my face?" I scoff. "How romantic," I say with a scowl.

"Why are you so difficult, Rae?" he asks me softly with a faint smile, a handsome smile. I ignore it.

"So you're Divergent. You knew the storm was a lie. You came here to spy on Four. You used me but then fell in love with me. And then you broke up with me because your father threatened to kill me. Is there anything else that I should know?" I ask crudely, finally looking him in the eye. "Oh, I forgot. The reason you always insisted on training the transfers was so that you could fish out your father's spies."

"The way you always insisted on running the simulations?" he counters, and I freeze. How could he possibly have known? Back then I knew that one day I'd have to tell him… but we ended before I ever did.

"You knew?" I ask quietly, taking a step backward.

"Justin had asked me about the occasional glitches in the fear simulations and I knew that it only could have been you. I had asked myself why would you be protecting Divergents, and then everything made sense. I suddenly realized why my father wanted me to spy on Four. And after watching Alex and Annabelle in training, I knew that he wasn't the only Divergent in the family. It was a dangerous secret, so I never pushed you. I figured you would tell me when you were ready," he says, pointing out my secret as if it somehow justifies his own, but he just made his case significantly worse.

"How considerate of you," I say sarcastically, and then I scowl. "Don't you dare use that against me and pretend like that's the same thing. It would have been if you had actually intended to tell me the truth at some point, but by the looks of things it's obvious that you didn't. You weren't ever going to tell me."

His hand falls back to his side, heavy, and the look on his face only confirms my accusation. And it hurts.

"Instead of trusting me you lied to me," I say, sounding strangled but strong. It's the worst lie I've ever been told. He told me that he didn't love me anymore, that he had grown tired of me. It was like a bullet to the chest. "Why would you do that?" I demand.

"You know why," he whispers, taking a careful step closer to me. "They were watching me. They were always watching me. I couldn't take that risk."

"There _was_ no risk, Jake!" I yell at him. "You knew that I knew the truth. You knew that my entire family was Divergent. We would have fought with you. _I_ would have fought with you if you had just told me." And heatedly I say, "You had _nothing_ to lose."

"I had _everything_ to lose," he seethes back. I want to roll my eyes but I don't. I shouldn't take lightly the fear that Jake has for his father. I saw what that same fear did to Four, and he is one of the strongest people I know.

"I'm not afraid of him," I say.

"That's exactly why I couldn't tell you, Rae!" He steps back. "Because you are frustrating and ridiculously stubborn and I knew that you would go after him even if I asked you not to!"

"And why is that so bad?" I growl more than say.

"Because he would have _killed_ you!"

"Maybe that would have been better than _this_!" I yell, my arms flinging wide between us. I would have died for him. Instead of four years of gut-wrenching pain and torturous memories, I would have died for him.

"Don't you say that," he says, and with one large step he's so close to me that I shiver with want. He cups my face with his palm and says, "Don't you ever say that."

It's been so long since he's touched me. I want to melt into it.

I don't.

"Don't tell me what to do," I seethe, ripping his hand away. "You lost that right when you singlehandedly decided that we weren't worth fighting for. When you just threw me away like I never mattered to you."

And all the reasons why I hated my old faction burn fresh within me. People should never be forgotten. It's one of the reasons I never took Four's name when they adopted me. It's all that I had left of my father and I wanted to keep him close to me, even if it meant growing up in Dauntless with a classic Amity name like Summers. My father was a good man, one who deserved to be remembered.

Maybe Jake is no better than the Amity. I hate him and I hate them. I hate their hypocrisy. I hate their lies. I hate the way they bury their hurt along with their dead as if pain is the enemy. But after hurting there is healing. If they'd let themselves feel any pain at all they'd know that.

"Is that what you think?" Jake asks, backing away from me. "That I didn't want to fight for you? That I didn't want to rip my own father's heart out of his chest or put a bullet in his head for you?" And then a tear falls from his eyes and it takes everything in me to not let it break me.

"I think you took the easy way out," I say. "That's what I think."

"Because it was so easy watching the woman I love spiral downward because of me. And when you got back on your feet it was so easy watching you smile and not being able to kiss you, being around you and not being able to touch you, knowing that one day I would have to watch you be with someone else." His voice breaks. "Letting you go was the hardest thing I've ever had to do, Rae. It destroyed me," he chokes.

"Then why did you do it?!"

"I lied to you because I love you!" he yells.

"You lied to me because you're a coward!" I yell back, knowing that he won't ever admit it, and my eyes fill with tears but I force them back. "What were you planning to do, Jake? You were just here sitting on your ass this whole time, taking refuge in Dauntless while your father has been planning God knows what," I scowl. "Were you just gonna watch while he killed the people that matter most to me?! The only family I have?" and it takes all of my strength to keep my voice steady.

Life has taken away many things from me, but many things to me it has given back. Tris is the mother I never knew and Four became the father I had lost. Even the thought of losing them makes me weak. I've lost one family before, and losing this one, I'm not sure I'd survive it.

Jake looks away from me, but not from shame or regret. Instead his eyes are strong, filled with determination.

"What were you planning to do, Jake?" I ask him, more seriously this time.

He looks up at me and takes a few deep breaths before he says, "I was going to kill him," and my eyes open wide. "It took me a while, but I came to terms with the fact that the only way to stop him would have been to kill him."

I'm left dumbstruck.

"So you spent the last four years mustering the will to kill your own father because you felt like you absolutely had to do this alone," I say quietly. He doesn't answer. "Because you had _nobody_ ," I say mockingly.

"Rae-," he tries.

"What was I there for then, Jake? Why'd you ever need me?" I ask, and it almost sounds like a whimper. He stares into my eyes, and before he sees the brokenness in my soul the way he always could have, I decide to leave. I turn around but with two large steps he stands in front of me, blocking the door.

"Get out of my way," I say, and my voice trembles.

"Do you love me?"

More than anything.

"Get the hell out of my way, Jake."

"Tell me that you don't love me anymore, and you're free to go." He shakes his head, tears in his eyes. "Tell me that you don't love me anymore and I promise I'll never bother you again."

It's a simple thing, telling him the same lie that he once told me. But I can't seem to say it, and it makes me wonder how he ever could.

"Raelene," he begs.

"Shut up!" I scream out. "You don't get to call me that anymore!"

And with that he slowly steps aside, clearing my path to the door. I step forward and I grab on to the cold doorknob and I will myself to turn it. But as much as I do, I can't. My hand trembles as the large, white door begins to blur and then all of a sudden I can't see anything anymore.

I've never understood how the same man that could make me feel so powerful could sometimes make me feel so weak. I press my forehead against the door and this time I'm not strong enough. I'm not strong enough to force the tears away. I'm not strong enough to stop the soft whimpers that push past my lips.

And then all my strength is gone when I feel strong arms slide against my back and my waist, folding around my middle. When I feel the warmth of his chest against my back my grip on the doorknob falters and my lean body slumps into his. My sobbing only intensifies as the agonizing pain consumes me.

All the memories of inadequate men who could not dominate my body the way he could, or all the women whose lips were too thin or whose hands were too gentle or too small, all the ones I had hated and chased out of my apartment simply because they weren't _him_ , even the sleepless nights and the thick circular bottoms of empty wine bottles flash through my mind like a storm and my anger becomes my strength. I try to pry his hands away from me but he only holds me tighter. I thrash in his arms like a spoilt child but he grabs on to me, holding on for dear life.

"I'm sorry, baby," he whimpers into my shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

My body quakes as love and hate battle inside me, pulling me here and pulling me there. And he says the words over and over again until I hear him. I hear my Jake say my name.

"Raelene," he whispers into my ear with a sob, and the larger parts of my body come to an abrupt halt, while my fingers and lips and toes tremble violently. "I'm so sorry, baby," he whimpers. "I just wanted you to be safe. Even if it meant that I couldn't have you."

And then he lets me go.

My body suddenly aches at the loss of his warmth around me and I spin around to see him falling backward until his feet crash against the bedframe and he sits, pressing his head into his palms, shaking. He looks up at me with unreserved brokenness and that's when I remember, I made him weak too. He needed me as much as I needed him.

My chest becomes heavy at the thought of all the things _I_ hid from _him_. Burdens I chose to carry alone even though I knew that I could trust him with my life. I lied to him too. I tried to protect him too. Maybe I have no right to judge him, because I'm just as stupidly in love as he is and I would do anything to protect him, to save him. I would have taken on all of Dauntless for him the way he did for me in a heartbeat. I only ever came back for him.

"Jake," I whimper, fighting the ache burning within my chest, but I lose.

Without thought I crash into him, attacking his lips with mine and pulling violently at his hair, his chest, his fingers, anything that my hands find to hold on to. He fights back and his strong hands are gripped so tightly against my skin that it stings but I don't care. I don't care. I hate him but he is mine and I love him. I love him.

We crash against the bed in vehement fervour, unmindful to the unlocked door. We've taken each other to the ultimate heights of pleasure and back. We've taken each other in decadent ways, and in places where no one else dares to. But not this. We've never done this; tears and sobs stressed with passionate kisses, our bodies pressed together in want and need and love and grief as our hands wander and grasp in hunger where they may, leaving no inch of skin untouched.

But then he stops. And I feel his hands claw into my back as he pulls me into him, wrapping his legs around mine. I feel him breathe heavily against me and all I can do is return his hold, drenching myself with his skin, his scent, his warmth. And we stay like that for minutes, hours, just holding each other in silence as if the emptiness we've both felt for so long could somehow be undone.

But maybe none of that matters.

Time when lost can never be reclaimed. But we have each other now, and all that matters is that right here, right now, we're whole. And I'll be damned if I ever lose him again, with or without his permission. I will fight for him to the death because Tris is right. Men _are_ stupid. But they're _our_ men. And we love them as they are.


	7. Epilogue

**Memoirs of a Lasting Love - EPILOGUE**

 **Divergent Love Stories - Chapter 50**

 **SIX WEEKS LATER  
**

Imagine waking up in a strange place and not knowing where you are, or _who_ you are, recognizing nothing but the sound of a familiar voice calling you home. Imagine being scared and then coming to from what felt like an ordinary night of sleep and crazy dreams only to be told that you've been here and yet not here for six weeks.

I wake up in a world that's completely different from the one I left behind. It _must_ be different. It _has_ to be different. Because I'm lying in the Dauntless infirmary with Erudite doctors asking me questions, a factionless nurse checking my vital signs, Abigail dressed in her Amity red and yellow, and my beloved dressed in no particular faction colour.

"I don't know," I say to their questions, and I almost don't recognize the sound of my own voice. It's raspier than usual. "Last thing I remember we were walking in a pack towards Erudite. Everything from there is just blank."

"That's ok," the female doctor who had earlier identified herself as Dr. Jimenez says to me. "It might take a while for certain things to come back. Although, the events just prior to the accident may never come back at all."

"You don't really want to remember that anyways," my baby sister says to me with a grin as she holds me in her arms; she's lying in the bed with me. Maybe she's right. I suppose I can appreciate the innocent calm that comes along with not remembering the ghastly moments that took place just before I almost died, although the gaps in my memory do frustrate me.

"How do you feel, Rae?" Caleb then asks me.

I feel like a truck ran over me.

"I feel fine," I say.

"We'll have to monitor you for at least another two weeks just to be on the lookout for any complications," Dr. Jimenez says. "But after everything's checked out you'll be free to go home, although you'll have to check in for physical therapy and rehabilitation five days a week. You'll find that tasks that were once simple have now become difficult. Your body will take some time to return to its prior state and it will require a lot of effort and patience on your part. How quickly and how much you recover depends on you, but based on your primary evaluation you're looking at at least four to five months of rehab."

"I give her a week," Alex mutters with a smirk. It makes me grin and so does Dr. Jimenez.

"You'll be needing round the clock care for a while," she continues. "Just until you've built back up your strength, and that includes being pushed around in a wheelchair until you get your walking legs back."

Walk? I can barely lift my own arm. Or speak. Or breathe.

"We all know how much you'll hate that," Four says to me, smiling. "But you don't have a choice."

"I draw the line at wiping my ass," I say groggily. "I'll be doing that myself."

"Actually, I'd like to be the one doing that," Jake says sultrily, and the sound of his voice makes my heart race. I blush on impulse. Everyone else looks at him wide-eyed after his lewd comment, but he's looking at _me_. Hiding a grin, he clears his throat and says, "What I mean is, I'd like to be the one responsible for her care. If that's ok with everybody else, of course."

But everybody else seems to mean just Four, because he's the one everybody else looks at for an answer. I'd laugh out loud if I had the strength to.

Before he answers, Four, my dad, looks at me as if looking for an answer from _me_ , and I feel the colour rush into my cheeks. There's nothing I'd want more.

I nod.

"Ok," he says to Jake, and beside him Tris smiles knowingly.

"He hasn't left since you've been in here," Anna then whispers in my ear. I look up at Jake again and there's an indescribable look in his eyes. Something between wonder and gladness and longing. Something far greater than love if there even is such a thing. But it's powerful and it calls me to him. My eyes refuse to break away and it feels as though I'm floating toward him, though I'm not moving at all.

"I also approve," Alex then says from somewhere in the room.

"Nobody asked you," Abigail replies cheekily.

"Hey!" Alex then wails. "You're supposed to be on _my_ side."

Everyone laughs, but I only know this because I hear them somewhere deep in my subconscious. I'm still looking at Jake, completely mesmerized, desperate to eliminate even the air between us.

"Let's leave these two alone," Tris says, glancing between Jake and me. I blush, embarrassed. Is it really that obvious?

"But I don't wanna go," Anna whines beside me. She's laughing but there are tears in her eyes. I wipe them away gently, heartbroken as I begin to imagine all that they must have been feeling for the past weeks. It would have driven me to hell and back, the thought of losing any of them.

"I'm not going anywhere, baby sister," I say to her. "I promise."

She smiles and hugs me softly. "I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you," she says to me over and over again before she finally decides to get out of the bed. And then I'm showered with tender hugs and soft kisses from everybody else before they all reluctantly walk out, glancing back with every step and smiling teary eyed at me.

It summons my own tears. I find myself thinking how incredible it feels to be loved, and greater still to be loved by this many people.

Slowly he closes the door and then Jake climbs into the bed with me, and I press myself against him trying harder and harder with each difficult breath to get closer, like I would crawl beneath it and cover myself with his skin if I could. He wraps his arm around me, but his hold on me is gentler than usual. I'm sure he could break me in half if he wanted to. I feel frail and weak, but safe as I look into those warm green eyes that remind me of cool spring days. I've missed those eyes.

"So I got shot?" I ask him, playfully frowning.

He nods. "Look on the bright side. You got shot in the best place there is to get shot in."

"My Aorta?" I ask, petrified.

He laughs. "Erudite headquarters," he says. "If you had gotten shot in Dauntless they probably would have tried to patch you up with gauze and tape like they did me."

Jake smiles sweetly, but I see his thoughts pierce through his eyes. Behind the carefree words lies the grave thought that I was lucky to have the city's greatest minds in charge of my care or I may not have survived. It makes me feel a strange sort of gratefulness. But I guess one can come to appreciate the bad things after having considered the detrimental.

Curious, I pull away the thin hospital gown and I trace my finger along the already healed scar on my abdomen. It proves to not be the strangest thing about my body. I'm noticeably thinner.

"I'm all skin and bone," I say softly, mostly to myself.

"Don't worry about that," Jake says, lifting my head. "I'll have you fattened up in no time."

I grin at his uncanny ability to put me at ease. "That should be easy. I'm so hungry I feel like I could eat an entire cow." Speaking of cows… "And Victor?" I ask, strangely concerned for the man who I know, without being told, is the one who shot me.

Jake's expression falls, taken aback by the unexpected question. "He's gone," he says, and I realize why I'm concerned. I'm not concerned for Victor. As abhorrent as he was, he was still Jake's father.

"Are you ok?" I ask carefully.

"He killed the first woman I ever loved and then tried to kill the second." Jake nods and levelly says, "Yeah, I'm ok." And I know better than to push the topic.

"Ok," I say and I snuggle closer to him. He relaxes and takes several deep breaths of my hair. Each breath sings _I've missed you_ and every part of me screams _I've missed you too_ although it shouldn't. How could I have missed him if I didn't even know that I was away from him?

And that's when I remember.

"Do you believe in ghosts?" I ask him, thinking of just where I was, or at least where I _think_ I was, when I was gone.

"The creepy kind of ghosts or the good kind?" Jake asks with a smile.

"It's creepy either way," I chuckle. "But I mean, do you think that even after we're gone, we're still here?"

He thinks about it for a while. "Well if we are, that means that the ghost of every person that has ever lived and died is walking around somewhere. That's a lot of ghosts."

"Yeah. There's probably not enough space in the world for that. They'd keep bumping into each other. Can you imagine one ghost telling the other ghost ' _excuse me'_?" And I say _excuse me_ in a squeaky little voice.

"Naw," Jake says. "They probably just walk right through each other." And we both snicker, wrapped in each other's arms and talking nonsense, like if we didn't just spend the last four years apart, like if we had never missed a beat.

"Why do you ask?" he asks.

"I had the weirdest dream."

"Yeah? What was it about?"

"I was with my dad. My _dad_ dad," I say, hoping it doesn't sound _too_ crazy. Jake simply nods. "I told him that I missed him so much, and he said that he missed me too. My mom was there with him. She looked just like me. Or maybe it's me that looks like her," I chuckle. "We talked and I told them about my life. I told them about Four and Tris… and about you, and I told them that I was so happy to be with them but that I wasn't ready to leave you all yet. I thought they would have been hurt but they weren't upset at all. They told me it was ok, and that they knew that I loved them and that I thought of them. They said that all they wanted was for me to be happy, and that they were grateful for the family I have here. And they sent me back."

I study Jake's eyes, filled with sincere curiosity, waiting for him to say something.

"You think it was real?" he asks.

"I don't know. It felt real. Do _you_?" It's silly of me, asking an Erudite if he believes in the scientifically improbable.

"I don't know. But I hope it was," he says.

"Why?"

"Because then you would have met your mother, and gotten that 'one more time' with your dad that you've always wanted. If it was real then you have the hope that they're never too far, you'll see them again, and _I,_ my love," he says, kissing me gently on the nose, "I get to keep you for much longer than a hundred years."

I blush, grateful for every word that he just spoke, especially the last part of it. "You're still so unbearably poetic?"

"Always," he grins. "Speaking of which," he bites his lip. "I was thinking that when you woke up it would be too hard for you to navigate around Dauntless for a while. So… I bought you your dream house about a month ago. Off the compound. It's not too big, but it has a huge kitchen and a big yard to match. And it's green. I hope it's the right shade."

My mouth opens but I don't know what to say. There's so much more to it than just the fact that he remembered that even though it was something that I had only mentioned in passing countless years ago. He was planning for me to wake up even though they were warned that I might not.

"You really knew I'd wake up?" I ask, my eyes flooding with tears.

"I was sure of it. It was just a matter of when." With earnest eyes he says, "I swear, sometimes you don't know how strong you are."

But he is the strong one. I can't imagine what it must have been like day after day, just waiting.

"Neither do you," I say.

He shakes his head. "I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"You're the strong one, Rae," he says firmly. "You know, one of the reasons I got close to you was because I could breathe easily around you. You never judged me. You never criticized me. As confident as you were you never looked down on me. You built me up when all I'd ever been was broken down. I felt safe and free for the first time in eight years. That freedom made me open up in a way that I never had and every day that I let you in I fell deeper and deeper in love with you, and then you loved me back though I never understood why. Apart from the fact that you were more than I could have ever dreamed of, I was afraid of the evil parts of me that you swore never existed. And at first I thought you just couldn't see it because you could kick my ass if I ever dared to try and lay a hand on you." He laughs a little. "But then there came a point where I started to see what you saw and I started to feel strong, but I didn't deserve to. I still don't. Not after I've spent my entire life running like a coward."

I wince and my breath catches. I had told him he had chosen the easy way out when he left me, that he was a coward. But I was wrong, and I regret those words more than anything.

"Jake, I'm sorry. I never meant-"

"No. It's not just that," he interrupts. "It was even from the very beginning. You didn't hesitate when Tris was in trouble. My mother was being strangled to death and I just stood there in a corner and hid."

"You were eight years old, Jake," I say forcefully, grabbing his face between my palms with what little strength I have. The guilt is unmistakable in his eyes, and it fills me with as much pain as it did the first time he told me that he had still blamed himself for her death, the day we made known our every secret.

"So were you," he says softly.

"I had a gun in my hand, and the man trying to hurt her was not my father. And you had no way of defending yourself. If he knew that you had seen him he most likely would have killed you too. What you did was smart, Jake." He's always been smart. It makes me wonder how I missed his Divergence. He practically spelled it out for me. He was trying to make me see.

"But I'm supposed to be brave too, and I'm not." He looks away from me.

"Really?" I ask, pulling at his chin. "The man who stood up against hundreds of Dauntless for me, shot a traitorous Dauntless leader in the head, betrayed his own blood in order to defend what was right, and then planted himself by my side every day and every night for the past six weeks without fail isn't brave? Isn't strong?"

He shakes his head a little as he takes my hand from his chin and presses it against his lips. "Can't you see, Rae? You're the one that makes me strong. Everything that I have ever done that has been worth doing is because of you." And he looks deep into my eyes and says, "You're the one that makes me strong."

And staring back I say, "Well then listen to me and find the strength to forgive yourself." I lace my fingers with his. "Because it wasn't your fault and there's nothing you could have done to stop him. Not in that moment. But you stopped him when you could've, and he won't hurt anyone else ever again."

Jake squeezes my fingers and lets out a breath as he hangs on my words. I know it'll take a while for him to completely believe them, but I'll be here to remind him of them until he does.

"And you make me strong too, you know," I add. "Don't you dare deny it."

"Ok," he says, giving in to a smile.

"Good," I say. "Because I might need to feed off you for a while." And then I chuckle lightly. I'm too weak to do anything at all.

"The only thing you need to do is relax and let me take care of you."

Jake's face becomes serious again and he gently passes his hand against my hair and down my back. My hands wander too, tracing the hard line of his jaw and down his neck, admiring every curve and handsome element of his face. But even his handsomeness doesn't hide the tiredness in his eyes or the dark circles that cloud them. And judging by the rest of him, he needs someone to take care of him too.

"How about we just take care of each other?" I suggest.

He nods. "We made a promise. Remember?"

We did. The night before we attacked Erudite we had made confessions and we had made promises.

He confessed that as weak as he had felt without me, he thought that _I_ was strong enough and that's why he left. And maybe I was, but he had left his mark on me. More than a fingerprint, he was branded into my flesh. Mere strength was not enough to make me let him go because I didn't want to be mended. I wanted _him_. He was my choice, and he always would be.

I told him that it was stupid of him to think that he needed me more than I needed him, and that although he never meant to, he hurt me in a way and in a place that no else ever could, and I cried as I confessed how terribly and how deeply he had wounded me. And then all of a sudden I couldn't stop. It's like I opened a door that had years of pain hidden behind it. And with every ounce of my strength gone I lay limp beside him and I cried profusely. It was painful in a way that I never knew pain could ever be. And it made no sense because he was right there with me, holding me.

So why did it still hurt, I had wondered.

 _Tell me what to do_ , Jake had cried. _Tell me what to do. I'll do anything._

And somehow I knew what to do.

 _Make love to me,_ I said.

 _Are you sure?_ he had asked me.

 _Yes._

And we did. We had made love face to face, skin to skin, with knotted fingers and looking into each other's eyes the whole time. We were exposed and stripped down in so many more ways than one. I saw his every thought the minute they would flash through his mind, and I knew that he could see mine.

There were no barriers, no fears, no insecurities. Just the unwavering conviction that he was what I wanted, and that I was what he wanted, and that no matter what happened, how hard it was or how long it took, we would fight our way back to synchrony. And as we made love the tears kept flowing and my lips trembled, but not from pain. But because for the first time in a long time I felt whole again, through and through and all the way down to the very tips of my toes. I felt us come back together again. With every slow and deep slide of him inside me I felt his spirit reconnect with mine and that is what I needed because that is where I was broken. That is where _he_ was broken.

The Abnegation might overstress the power of touch and the significance of being inside someone and letting someone be inside you, but they are not wrong about it. It is not just metaphorical. Beyond all the physical parts of it, there is something spiritual. A power that is strong enough to heal even the soul and bind two people in a realm beyond our own when you strip down all that you are and you let yourself feel it, when you let yourself surrender to it.

I am in him and he is in me. I will forever be his and he will forever be mine, _no matter what_. That was our promise.

"And I'll enjoy keeping that promise in the comfort of our new home," I say wittily.

"Our new home," Jake repeats and then he grins. "I won't lie to you. I absolutely love the way that sounds."

"As do I," I blush. "So is this your way of asking me to move in with you, Jake? Buying me a house? Ever so subtle," I tease.

He bites his lips and smiles nervously. "Alex and Four have already agreed to help me move your things, so that's not really optional at this point," he says. He reaches behind him and pulls out a tiny black box from his pocket. Gracefully he sets it between us, and before I can register what's actually happening he says, "I'm asking you to marry me."

I forget to breathe and I'm sure he notices.

"I know it's sudden," he says, "and we just got back together and things are still complicated between us. And I know I can't just expect us to pick up from where we left off and-"

"-and I just woke up from a coma," I interrupt with a wide smile.

"And you just woke up from a coma… and your reasoning and cognitive abilities might be compromised at this point therefore making any decision you make questionable," he smiles sweetly. "But as complicated as all of this is, it's not. I love you, Rae, and I've been through enough to know that I'll never stop. You will always be the one I want to spend every minute of the rest of my life with." And sliding his thumb against the trail of tears on my cheek he says, "You don't have to answer me now. I just want you to know where-"

"Yes," I blurt out, not having thought about it, not having needed to.

"Really?" he whispers, almost as if in shock that I would say yes. But how I could ever say anything but?

"It's only ever been you, Jake… And it will always only be you," I say to him, pouring my heart into every word. "I love you."

Tears swim in his eyes as he lifts my lips to his, and they meet in a sweet and gentle kiss. "I love you too. So much," he says.

And we lay there, lost in each other's eyes, wrapped in each other's arms with nothing but a ring and a promise between us. My heart races when all of a sudden I feel overwhelmed by the strong, unprompted resolution that I don't want to be anywhere else in the world but right here, right now, with him. And it makes me finally understand all the things that Jake has ever thought about. All the different ways he could have ended up if he had done one thing different. A different place, a different person, a reality altogether different from this one where this perfect moment, the one we're living and breathing right now, does not occur.

It makes me regret nothing. Because when I think about where I may have been right now, or where I would be tomorrow or what the rest of my life would have been like if I had never met him, if I had never loved him, if I had lost him for good somewhere along the way, it threatens to stop my heart.

It makes me grateful for the moments and the people that have made us, everything that has brought us to where we are right now, both wonderful and unspeakable alike. Because God forbid I be anywhere else.

I close my eyes as he presses his forehead against mine. I breathe in deep and there's certainty in the air, that same certainty of safety and strength and amity that I always felt every time he was near me. I have no doubt that we could take on the world and have our way with it.

"We're gonna be ok, you and me," I whisper against his lips.

Jake smiles and I feel the curve of his mouth against mine. "No, baby," he says and he shakes his head slowly. "We're gonna be so much more than ok."

He presses another sweet kiss to my lips and I melt into it, not daring to pull away. And I know with all my heart that we're right where we should be, and that together we'll walk right into that spectacular tomorrow that's only ours to claim.

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you** _ **so**_ **much to everyone who followed, favourited, or even just read Memoirs, and thanks for all your encouraging words and reviews :) I'm really glad you all enjoyed this short story and can appreciate Rae, who is actually one of my favourite characters, a little bit more. I'm sad that it's over but on the other hand I'm beyond excited (to say the least) to have completed my first story :) *Scream!***

 **P.S- If you see an update for DLS, it's the same chapter. I'll be posting the first Epilogue for DLS next week.  
**

 **Thanks again you guys. Much Love :)**


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